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LETTERS    FROM  THE   WOODS. 

[EDITORIAL  CORRESPONDENCE.] 


RANDOM  RHYMES, 

FROM  20  TO  70. 


ANNUAL  ADDRESSES, 

WRITTEN  FOR  PRESS  CARRIERS. 


BY  EDWARD   B.  OSBORNE. 


POUQHKEEPSIE. 

1893. 


INTRODUCTORY  AND  EXPLANATORY. 


An  explanation  is  sometimes  equivalent  to  an  apology,  and 
therefore  not  out  of  place  in  this  opening  page.  The  original 
intention  was  the  printing  of  a  few  copies  of  this  little  book 
for  private  distribution  only.  But  through  an  outside  sugges- 
tion (we  must  confess  not  requiring  much  pressure),  a  larger 
edition  was  decided  upon. 

These  sketches,  the  work  of  moments  of  leisure  from  con- 
fining business  occupations,  and  from  larger  relief  during  a 
few  days'  sojourn  in  the  outer  world,  where  Nature  in  com- 
parative solitude,  sublime  and  beautiful  in  its  grand  adorn- 
ments, invites  the  admiring  and  reverent  gaze  —  were  written 
only  for  a  timely  use,  to  be  buried  with  it.  That  they  reap- 
pear in  this  form,  can  find  no  more  plausible  excuse  than  to 
fall  back  upon  an  old  plea,  that  Age  grows  garrulous  —  that 
the  veteran,  looking  back  to  the  sterner  conflicts  of  his  life  as- 
signments, finds  delight  in  "fighting  his  battles  over,"  and 
peaceful  mortals  who  have  survived  their  usefulness  are  prone 
to  think,  what  is  of  mastering  memory  to  themselves  of  the 
past  must  possess  interest  to  others,  and  plead  at  least,  in  the 
words  of  higher  authority,  that  "a  book  is  a  book  although 
there  is  nothing  in  it." 

"  Letters  from  the  Woods  "  are  portrayals  of  what  the  Adi- 
rondacks  were  a  third  of  a  century  ago,  when  that  now  fre- 
quented and  greatly  traveled  section  of  our  State  was  almost 
a  terra  incognita,  to  be  reached  only  by  long  foot  tramps.  All 
this  has  been  wonderfully  changed  through  the  agency  of 
steam  transit  and  the  speed  of  daily  coaches  in  all  directions, 
furnishing  facility  of  access,  and  carrying  with  them  all  the 
conveniences  and  comforts  of  the  most  popular  fashionable  re- 
sorts. Locomotives  and  steamboats  now  utter  their  conquer- 


2037119 


4  INTRODUCTORY  AND  EXPLANATORY. 

ing  defiance  over  natural  difficulties,  where  then  the  lonely 
hunter  and  angler  wandered  for  weeks,  meeting  only  at  rare 
intervals  venturesome  mortals,  like  themselves,  leading  for 
the  time  being  a  hermit  life.  Looking  back  through  the  long 
roll  of  years,  we  are  impressed  with  the  fact,  that  of  the  nu- 
merous native  guides  who  directed  our  course  over  lakes  and 
streams,  and  piloted  through  the  almost  pathless  forests,  all 
but  two  or  three  sleep  from  their  wonted  pursuits  beyond 
time's  awakening. 

Of  the  early  efforts  at  "random  rhyme "  —  perhaps  the  less 
said  the  better.  They  mark  in  memory  a  somewhat  extended 
residence  in  a  historical  city  of  New  England  —  which  of  old 
was  a  reputed  locality  of  witches  and  their  alleged  craft.  But 
all  the  witches  we  encountered  were  attractive  creations  of 
flesh  and  blood,  abundantly  equipped  to  foster  poetic  inspira- 
tion in  the  brain  of  youthful  romance.  To  become  a  subject 
of  their  witchery,  had  there  been  no  more  convenient  oppor- 
tunity of  companionship,  one  would  have  been  content  to  have 
accompanied  them  on  a  moonlight  "broom-stick"  excursion 
over  the  city,  and  have  shared  with  them  a  chance  of  mercy 
at  the  hands  of  puritanical  over-righteousness,  as  the  penalty 
of  such  an  aerial  feat. 

At  the  first  blush,  the  "  Annual  Addresses,"  written  for  the 
carriers  of  a  daily  journal,  may  seem  like  a  short  string  of 
old  almanacs  —  their  use,  if  any,  having  expired  by  limita- 
tion. (Incidentally  of  almanacs  and  their  uses,  we  will  add 
what  our  old  citizens  will  probably  remember,  that  it  was  a 
custom  to  give  a  running  prediction  of  the  current  state  of 
the  weather  in  italics  on  the  margin  of  a  page,  and  in  the 
suitable  season  announcement  was  made  to  look  out  for  "  show- 
ers, lightning,  thunder,"  etc.  A  rural  citizen  came  into  the 
town  of  Barnstable,  Mass.,  one  day  to  attend  the  "Court  of 
Common  Pleas,"  which  was  the  almanac  announcement  for 
the  day.  Directly  opposite  it  in  the  weather  margin  was 
the  word  "  thunder."  The  seeker  for  knowledge,  as  to  what 
sort  of  weather  the  day  was  going  to  bring,  took  the  whole 
line  in  and  dropped  the  authority  with  the  exclamation:  "  Good 


INTRODUCTORY  AND  EXPLANATORY.  5 

Heavens!  we  are  going  to  have  a  shower  of  Barnstable  thun- 
der! ")  But  this  is  a  digression  to  ease  up  a  little  the  work  of 
explanation  under  this  heading.  We  put  in  extenuation 
that  these  addresses  have  something  to  plead  for  their  pres- 
ence here,  if  for  nothing  else,  that  they  serve  as  chronological 
indicators  of  memorable  conflicts,  not  only  in  th»  history  of 
our  own  great  national  struggle  to  uphold  the  legacy  of  our 
revolutionary  sires,  but  also  as  data  of  warring  disturbances 
among  other  republics  on  our  own  continent,  as  well  as  of 
like  occurrences  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  It  may 
be  remarked  in  closing,  that  the  same  unsettled  conditions 
and  uncertainty  of  stable  regal  government  still  largely  prevail, 
as  an  echo  of  the  long  past,  and  not  yet  distinctively  promising 
of  the  millennial  era. 

POUGHKEEPSIE,  1893. 


FOREST  AND  LAKE. 


WITH  THE  WOODS  AND  WATERS. 

CHAIN  LAKES,  ESSEX  Co.,  N.  Y.,  ) 
August  24,  1856.  J 

From  the  busy  occupations  of  camp  life,  I  will  find  time  for 
a  hasty  sketch  of  the  experience  of  a  few  days  '•  roughing  it  " 
in  a  portion  of  the  old  forests  in  the  northern  part  of  our  State. 
I  locate  my  epistle  at  Chain  Lakes,  upon  which,  and  the 
neighborhood,  a  moon's  half  circle  was  worn  pleasantly  down 
to  an  early  evening's  crescent. 

I  left  Poughkeepsie  in  company  with  an  old  friend,  who  has 
been  an  annual  devotee  on  the  same  pilgrimage  for  a  half  a,  dozen 
years,  and  was  therefore  well  qualified  to  put  me  through  the 
course  of  seeing  the  wilderness  elephant. 

We  reached  the  end  of  railroad  traveling  at  Fort  Edward. 
The  staging  from  thence  to  Glens  Falls  freshened  the  recol- 
lections of  long  ago.  The  coach  was  full  seated,  within  and 
without,  but  faithful  to  coach  custom  of  yore,  there  was 
always  room  for  one  more. 

At  Glens  Falls  we  changed  vehicle  for  the  drive  to  Chester, 
and  from  thence  after  supper  to  Schroon  Lake,  a  pretty  vil- 
lage bordering  a  fine  sheet  of  water  about  nine  miles  in  length. 
Here  we  formed  the  acquaintance  of  one  of  a  family  of  go- 
ahead  young  men,  by  the  name  of  ROOT,  who  took  us  late  in 
the  evening,  behind  a  lively  team,  over  a  lonely  but  romantic 
road,  to  Schroon  River,  about  nine  miles  distant,  where  the 
senior  of  the  family  presided  as  host.  He  had  just  completed 
a  large  and  comfortable  mansion  for  public  uses,  where  we 
found  very  agreeable  entertainment  for  the  night.  Early  on 


8  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

the  morrow  we  started  for  a  point  some  thirty  miles  farther 
into  the  wilderness.  Our  route  for  most  of  the  way  lay 
through  the  primeval  forests,  over  a  corduroy  road,  the  over- 
hanging branches  darkening1  the  view,  and  confining  it  to  a 
narrow  track.  Here  and  there,  at  long  intervals,  a  log  cabin 
in  the  midst  of  a  scanty  clearing,  upon  which  a  plot  of  potatoes 
was  freshly  blooming  and  a  patch  of  oats  still  green,  and  around 
whose  doorway  healthy  and  rugged  looking  children  were 
exercising  their  bare  legs  and  feet,  changed  the  monotony  of 
the  scene. 

Occasionally,  through  an  opening  we  caught  a  view  of  some 
of  the  noted  peaks  of  the  Adirondack  ranges.  Of  these  sum- 
mits, Mount  Marcy  reaches  the  highest  altitude,  rising  to  the 
height  of  five  thousand  three  hundred  and  thirty-seven  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  We  passed  both  branches  of  the 
Hudson  river,  our  route  taking  us  within  about  fifteen  miles 
of  its  source. 

As  the  shades  of  evening  were  coming  on,  we  reached  the 
end  of  travel  by  wheel,  and  took  up  quarters  with  Caleb 
Chase,  who  received  us  with  the  hospitality  common  to  the 
pioneer's  home.  The  morning  brought  a  change  in  the  method 
of  travel.  For  a  good  six  miles  we  were  to  shoulder  our 
packs,  and  other  wood  appliances,  and  trudge  over  a  rock- 
paved  track,  which  led  us  to  a  shanty  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Qoodenow  creek,  a  celebrated  trout  stream,  where  we 
"  shantied  "  for  the  first  time  on  the  trip.  By  the  courtesy  of 
Messrs.  CRONKRITE  and  COLVILLE,  of  Glens  Falls,  who  had 
been  engaged  in  lumbering  in  this  section  the  previous  winter, 
we  had  been  put  in  possession  of  their  comfortable  log  house. 
It  had  been  the  home  of  a  large  number  of  log  cutters  during 
the  season  of  that  work,  and  it  contained  all  the  culinary  con- 
veniences needed,  under  the  circumstances,  with  the  additions 
we  made  to  the  store.  How  we  struck  out  new  ideas  and 
forces  in  the  science  of  cookery,  at  least  to  one  of  the  party 
engaged  in  the  mystery,  need  not  to  be  stated.  It  is,  perhaps, 
profitable  that  we  should  some  time  be  thrown  upon  our  own 
resources  in  matters  which  are  not  supposed  to  belong  legiti- 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  9 

mately  to  the  male  gender.     It  is  a  sort  of   helper  to  a  fuller 
understanding  of  the  moral,  at  least  in  a  domestic   sense,  that 

"  The  good  we  never  miss  we  rarely  prize." 

Beside  taking  a  bountiful  supply  of  trout,  for  our  two  meals 
in  the  shanty,  our  main  experience,  on  a  tour  of  inspection 
through  the  adjoining  forest,  was  to  surprise  a  trap  set  for 
bear,  and  to  slightly  appreciate  the  scare  which  bruin  must 
have  realized,  had  he  come  to  his  invitation  before  us.  But 
this  is  an  incident  of  unwritten  history,  and  the  obligation  of 
silence  has  been  faithfully  kept  for  nearly  two  score  years. 
We  are  confident  the  bear  never  mentioned  our  poaching  on 
his  preserves. 

We  were  obliged  to  leave  our  comfortable  shanty,  sacred  to 
pleasant  memories,  as  it  was  about  three  miles  to  the  cluster 
of  lakes  where  our  operations  were  to  be  mainly  conducted. 
Early  in  the  morning  we  started  over  a  blind  trail,  and,  after 
considerable  devious  and  doubtful  exploration,  we  struck  the 
fifth  of  the  chain  of  water  basins  which  compose  this  charm- 
ing group  of  the  North  Woods,  in  many  respects  without  a 
peer.  After  a  protracted  search  we  uncovered,  from  its  hiding 
place  a  serviceable  boat,  which  had  been  designated  for  our 
use  by  our  friends  at  Glens  Falls. 

Passing  down  the  lakes  the  far-reaching  vision  of  uprising 
mountain  ranges  was  a  revelation  which  will  be  indelibly 
impressed  on  memory.  On  reaching  the  second  lake,  at  the 
foot  of  which  we  expected  to  find  our  venerable  shanty,  it  was 
in  so  dilapidated  and  dirty  condition  that  we  were  thrown 
upon  our  own  resources  to  settle  the  question  of  a  night's 
lodging.  In  this  emergency,  while  dipping  our  leather  cup 
in  the  spring,  a  half-breed  hunter,  from  the  St.  Regis  region, 
came  suddenly  upon  us.  He  carried  a  rifle  and  a  capacious 
blanket-pack.  Entering  into  conversation  with  him,  we 
learned  that  he  had  come  to  the  lakes  for  the  purpose  of 
capturing  a  deer.  As  he  was  a  foot  traveler,  we  proposed  he 
should  return  with  us  to  the  third  (and  largest)  lake,  and, 
after  setting  a  buoy  for  lake  trout,  prepare  to  take  an  evening 


10  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

float  with  one  of  us  for  a  deer.  This  arrangement  was  satis- 
factory, and  we  found  Mitchell,  as  our  new  companion  was 
called,  quite  handy  in  wood  life  and  hunter-craft.  After  con- 
sultation, it  was  deemed  best  to  camp  out  for  the  night,  rather 
than  try  the  sleeping  accommodation  of  the  old  shanty  we 
had  left.  Mitchell  was  accordingly  deputed  to  locate  the 
ground,  which  he  did  upon  a  bank  in  a  nook  of  the  lake,  near 
a  fine  spring  of  water.  With  tips  of  hemlock  he  soon  fash- 
ioned our  couch,  and  a  rousing  fire  added  liveliness  as  well  as 
comfort  to  the  scene.  Unrolling  his  pack  he  produced  the 
necessary  implements  and  soon  our  supper  was  in  a  fair  way 
of  meeting  ardent  expectations.  Pronged  sticks  impaled  the 
fish  we  had  caught  on  our  upward  passage,  and  they  were 
broiled  to  perfection.  During  our  repast  Mitchell's  tongue 
was  unloosed  and  he  treated  us  to  a  narrative  of  his  experience 
in  moose  hunting  in  the  upper  Canada  forests.  He  and  a 
companion  had  captured  about  seventy  on  the  Aroostook  the 
previous  winter,  and  others  he  said  were  more  successful. 
The  moose  are  destroyed  mainly  for  their  skins,  which  are 
worked  into  moccasins  and  other  articles,  and  are  valued  at  a 
high  price,  paying  the  hunter  well  for  his  exposure  day  and 
night  to  the  rigors  of  a  northern  winter. 

Late  in  the  evening  the  "jack  "  was  lit,  and  it  was  decided 
that  I  should  accompany  Mitchell  on  my  first  experience  at 
"floating  for  deer."  Down  the  lake  we  glided,  hearing 
occasionally  in  the  woods  on  the  banks  sounds  which  Mitchell 
pronounced  as  the  footsteps  of  the  game  we  sought,  but  no 
deer  were  to  be  seen.  While  thus  seated  in  blank  expectancy, 
a  couple  of  "  screech  owls,"  in  the  upper  part  of  the  lake, 
commenced  a  volume  of  unearthly  sounds,  which  echoed  in 
prolonged  cadence  from  the  mountain  side.  Mitchell  broke 
into  a  quiet  chuckle,  the  only  attempt  we  heard  him  make 
toward  a  laugh,  and  remarked:  "  I  guess  they  are  serenading 
Slee."  It  became  evident  that  the  evening's  cruise  would  not 
contribute  to  our  larder.  We  returned  fruitless  to  our  night's 
quarters,  and  reposed  upon  our  verdant  bed,  a  good  fire  at 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  11 

our  feet,  but  nothing  but  a  few  thin  tree-topbranclies  between 
our  overcoats  and  the  sky. 

We  rose  in  the  morning  feeling  fully  equal  to  any  toils  of 
the  day.  Mitchell  did  not  feel  satisfied  to  abandon  his  search 
for  venison,  and  he  started  off  alone  to  hunt  the  lakes.  Late 
in  the  afternoon  he  returned  empty-handed,  having  seen  but 
one  far-oft  deer,  and  gave  up  the  hunt.  We  had  been  success- 
ful during  the  day  among  the  lake  trout,  and  prevailed  upon 
him  to  take  a  portion  of  the  fish  we  had  on  hand.  He  in- 
formed us  that  during  the  day  he  had  discovered  a  shanty 
in  good  condition,  near  the  foot  of  the  second  lake,  near 
the  old  one.  We  accordingly  accompanied  him  down  the 
lake,  and  took  a  friendly  parting.  The  shanty  proved  to 
be  a  protection  against  wind  and  rain.  It  had  been  built  and 
occupied,  we  subsequently  learned,  the  previous  summer,  by 
Rev.  Dr.  Todd,  from  a  New  England  city,  who  had  sought 
the  wilderness  for  recreation  and  physical  relief. 

Fishing  for  lake  trout  in  these  waters  is  a  lively  occupation. 
Our  average  run  was  about  two  pounds  —  the  largest,  three 
and  a  quarter,  though,  my  companion  informs  me,  they  have 
been  captured  in  this  lake,  weighing  nine  pounds. 

My  companion,  nothing  discouraged  by  the  failure  of  the  pre- 
ceding evening,  took  the  paddle  at  an  earlier  hour,  and  we  put 
out  again  for  a  hunt.  The  result  proved  that  he  was  more 
expert  and  sagacious  than  the  descendant  of  the  red  man. 
Our  prize  of  the  evening  was  a  farrow  doe  of  large  proportions 
and  in  fine  condition.  We  also  run  in  shore  upon  a  buck  and 
doe  feeding  together,  but  there  was  no  temptation  to  increase 
our  stock  of  venison. 

The  wanton  destruction  of  these  beautiful  animals  is  telling 
materially  upon  the  frequency  of  their  resort  to  the  feeding 
grounds  of  the  lakes.  The  killing  of  them  merely  to  gratify 
the  pride  of  marksmanship  cannot  be  too  strongly  censured. 

Rain  fell  nearly  all  of  the  day  following,  and  of  all  days,  a 
constant  rainy  one,  in  the  forest,  is  among  the  dullest.  Our 
primitive  cabin,  with  its  unrestricted  range  for  smoke,  was 
convenient,  at  least,  for  curing  venison.  But  the  quantity  of 


12  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

the  latter  threatened  to  exceed  considerably  the  demand  even 
of  two  vigorous  appetites.  We  therefore  concluded  to  pack 
a  portion  of  it  and  carry  it  to  a  shanty  on  Cedar  river,  about 
three  miles  distant,  whose  inmates  my  companion  had  pre- 
viously visited.  Slinging  our  budget  on  a  pole  resting  on  our 
shoulders,  we  took  a  blind  trail  single  file  through  the  forest, 
and  were  welcomed  at  the  clearing  of  our  lonely  neighbors 
with  a  cordiality  that  made  us  immediately  at  home.  It  was 
occupied  by  Conklin  Noxon,  whose  ancestors,  he  informed 
me,  were  from  Dutchess  county.  We  found  him  in  harvest- 
work.  He  had  gathered  about  twenty  tons  of  hay,  and  was 
preparing  to  get  in  his  oats,  which  looked  large  and  heavy 
grained.  He  expected  to  gather  five  hundred  bushels  of 
potatoes  this  season,  and  the  Adirondack  quantity  of  this 
crop  cannot  be  surpassed.  The  demand  for  these  products  is 
from  the  lumbermen  and  their  teams,  the  former  of  whom 
make  the  old  forests  vocal  through  the  winter  by  the  meas- 
ured stroke  of  their  axes.  This  climate  grows  hardy  and 
vigorous  men,  who  laugh  at  the  icy  rigors  of  the  cold  months, 
make  pork  and  potatoes  their  regular  fare,  and  perform  an 
amount  of  labor  which  would  wilt  shop-nursed  laborers. 

Cedar  river  is  a  rapid  stream  of  considerable  width  and 
depth,  emptying  into  the  Hudson,  after  five  or  six  miles  fur- 
ther run.  At  time  of  spring  freshets,  when  fed  by  melting 
snows,  it  rises  ten  to  fifteen  feet,  and  affords  the  outlet  for 
lumbermen's  winter-piled  logs.  , 

But  I  must  close  my  narrative,  already  perhaps  too  much  ex- 
tended to  interest  the  reader.  To  the  jaded  and  workworn, 
these  still  mountain  retreats,  with  their  ever  pure  and  spark- 
ling waters  and  various  excitements  to  mental  and  bodily  ac- 
tivity in  new  channels,  furnish  a  genial  medicine.  Whatever 
the  exposure,  there  are  no  unfavorable  results.  Body  and 
mind  catch  the  elasticity  and  glow  of  the  surroundings.  Nor 
this  only.  Nature's  grandest  manifestations  have  here  an 
elixir  deeper  and  more  pervading.  From  her  lofty  rock-ribbed 

heights, 

"The  masonry  of  God," 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  13 

her  far-reaching  forests  clothed  in  varying  beauty,  and  her  ever 
harmonizing  voices  with  the  soul's  out-reachings,  come  a  teach- 
ing not  easily  forgotten  beneath  the  shortened  scope  of  ordi- 
nary familiar  avocations. 


ON  INDIAN  AND  LEWIS  LAKES. 

No.  I. 

NORTH  RIVER,  August,  1865. 

Travel  by  rail  furnishes  but  little  of  incident.  And  yet  the 
fact  that  within  the  space  of  four  hours  you  are  whirled 
through  from  Poughkeepsie  to  Fort  Edward,  is  an  event  in 
itself  of  such  proportions,  that  nothing  but  custom  takes  off 
the  wonder.  The  only  out-of-the-way  experience  was  an  over- 
heated axle  of  one  of  the  cars,  detaining  the  train  half  an 
hour.  Getting  out  to  learn  the  cause  of  the  detention,  we 
found  the  crowd  gathered  around  the  affected  place,  and  men 
pouring  water  upon  the  hissing  iron,  from  which  ascended  a 
volume  of  smoke,  to  the  no  little  alarm  of  some  of  the  pas- 
sengers inside. 

Saratoga,  of  course,  received  a  generous  share  of  the  living 
freight  who  started  with  us,  and  the  bustling  crowd  who 
stopped  within  its  charmed  precincts,  hurried  off  to  enter  the 
whirlpool  of  fashion, —  perhaps  to  realize  their  expectations. 

Glens  Falls,  over  which  a  sirocco  of  fire  swept  but  a  few 
months  since,  has  risen  in  beauty  from  the  ashes.  With  the 
active,  energetic  population  of  our  country,  fire  destroys  often 
only  to  lead  the  way  for  a  new  creation,  and  enhanced  prop- 
erty value. 

At  this  place  steam  has  not  yot  found  its  occupation  as  the 
draft  horse  of  thronging  travel.  The  old  stage  here  rattles 
off  in  all  its  ancient  glory,  and  the  art  of  piling  in  and  pack- 
ing on  the  traveling  community  is  understood  with  a  perfec- 
tion that  would  have  excited  the  envy  of  the  whips  of  former 
days,  who  always  had  room  for  one  more  inside. 
2 


14  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

At  Glens  Falls  our  stage  load  included  no  less  a  notoriety 
than  the  celebrated  E.  C.  Judson,  better  known  as  Ned  Bunt- 
line,  who  had  for  his  companion  on  a  lake  and  mountain  ex- 
cursion Mr.  Whitney,  of  the  New  York  Sunday  Mercury.  Ned 
has  returned  in  all  his  glory  from  a  four  years'  arduous  service 
in  the  war,  having  done  active  duty  in  the  First  New  York 
Mounted  Rifles.  His  employment  was  mainly  as  a  leader  in  the 
scouting  service,  an  occupation  for  which  his  forest  experience 
and  adventurous  temperament  admirably  fitted  him.  Moving 
incidents  of  fight  and  flight  will  make  Ned  more  than  ever  a 
companionable  hero  with  his  old  friends  and  associates  in 
these  wilds.  He  is  bound  for  his  old  home  at  Blue  Mountain 
Lake,  or  Eagle's  Nest,  as  he  has  christened  it,  from  which  he 
has  been  absent  since  the  appeal  to  arms  first  awakened  his 
martial  fire.  He  gave  us  a  pressing  welcome  to  go  with  him 
to  his  mountain  home,  assuring  us  a  hearty  welcome,  an  offer 
which  previous  engagements  compelled  us  to  decline. 

To-morrow  we  pack  horses  for  a  trudge  into  the  farther  in- 
terior, where  the  deer  contest  a  roaming  habitation  with  the 
wolf  and  a  still  worse  persecutor,  man  —  and  where  the  trout 
gather  and  grow  in  the  spring-fed  and  mountain  embosomed 
retreats.  Beyond  this  point  Uncle  Sam's  mail  bags  can  only 
be  reached  by  a  chance  outward-bound"  pedestrian. 

No.  II. 

Prominent  among  the  grand  collections  of  spring-fed  water, 
for  which  Hamilton  county  is  noted,  are  Lake  Piseco,  Lake 
Pleasant,  Lewis  lake  and  Indian  lake.  At  present  date  the 
alderman  and  myself  are  located  on  the  Lewis  river,  or  as  the 
common  pronunciation  here  is  Lewy  river,  about  a  mile  and  a 
half  above  the  inlet  of  Indian  lake.  Our  host  and  hostess 
are  a  Canadian  Frenchman  and  his  American  wife,  named 
Gerard,  a  courteous  couple,  who  are  cultivating  a  productive 
clearing  in  the  woods,  of  more  than  ordinary  size  and  fertility. 
They  are_fully  mindful  of  the  apostolic  injunction  not  to  be 
"  forgetful  to  entertain  strange rs,"J>ut  whether  in  the  exercise 


FOIIEST  AND  LAKE.  15 

of  such  hospitality  they  ever  fall  upon  "angels  unawares,"  is 
perhaps  an  idle  speculation. 

One  thing  strikes  an  observer  in  these  wilderness  clearings, 
and  that  is,  the  deprivation  of  social  privileges  by  the  women. 
The  first  thought  is,  that  habitation  and  inclination  are  in 
harmony  with  the  woman  denizens  of  forest  life,  but  I  find 
~that  it  is  rarely  so.  While  making  the.best  of  circumstances, 
and  doing  much  to  soften  the  privations  of  these  secluded 
homes,  their  longings  for  the  advantages  of  community  life  are 
strong  and  enduring,  and  they  talk  feelingly  of  the  loss  to 
their  children  and  themselves  in  their  confined  existence,  and 
find  comfort  in  the  hope  of  a  prospective  change.  It  is  possi- 
ble that  a  young  woman,  brought  up  from  the  cradle  to  this 
narrow  sphere,  and  agreeably  mated,  may  find  her  affinity 
without  discontent  here,  but  even  this  is  a  rare  exception. 

The  township  of  Indian  Lake  was  established  in  1859,  and 
before  the  war  contained  a  population  of  about  sixty  souls. 
The  charms  of  the  battle-field,  and  the  high  bounties,  drew  a 
number  of  substitutes  from  this  place,  some  of  whom  have  re- 
turned, others  sleep  with  their  comrades  where  no  morning  re- 
veille can  awake  them.  The  lake  whose  name  it  bears  is 
about  three  miles  long  and  a  mile  in  width.  It  has  been  a 
beautiful  sheet  of  water,  with  picturesque  banks,  sloping 
down,  in  places,  from  overhanging  mountain  peaks  of  majestic 
altitude.  But  the  hand  of  utility  has  robbed  it  of  much  of 
natural  beauty.  A  capacious  dam  has  been  built  at  its  outlet, 
within  a  few  years,  for  the  purpose  of  flooding  both  the  lake 
and  the  Lewis  river,  which  pours  a  heavy  volume  of  water  at 
all  times  into  it.  The  dam  is  closed  in  the  period  of  the  spring 
freshets,  raising  the  water  from  twelve  to  thirteen  feet  above 
its  ordinary  capacity.  This  supply  serves  as  a  reserved  feeder 
for  Indian  river,  the  outlet  of  the  lake,  and  which  bears  upon 
its  freshet-swelled  bosom,  the  logs  cut  by  lumbermen  in  this 
region.  These  logs  pass  into  the  Hudson  or  North  river,  into 
which  Indian  river  empties,  and  are  borne  down  by  the  swollen 
current,  in  countless  thousands,  to  Glens  Falls,  where  a  large 


16  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

portion  of  them  furnish  employment  for  the  extensive  saw- 
mills at  that  place. 

As  we  have  remarked,  the  operation  of  this  dam  is  fatal  to 
the  border  beauty  of  Indian  lake.  The  settling  back  of  the 
water  has,  to  a  great  extent,  destroyed  the  trees  and  solid  ver- 
dure, which  once  clothed  its  banks,  and  left  sterile  looking 
marshes,  covered  with  decayed  trees,  and  emitting  a  dank  and 
unwholesome  odor. 

Indian  lake  has  been  famous  as  a  common  resort  for  deer, 
and  the  surrounding  forests  still  hold  them  in  attraction  as 
numerously  as  any  place  in  the  northern  woods.  But  the 
huntsmen  and  their  dogs  give  no  peace  to  these  graceful  and 
agile  forest  rangers,  and  year  by  year  they  are  being  thinned 
in  numbers.  The  hound  is  taken  into  the  mountain  covert, 
and,  when  the  trail  is  struck,  the  leash  by  which  he  is  held  is 
loosed,  the  hunter  returns,  and  the  hound  goes  bounding  after 
his  prey.  And  here  commences  a  race  on  the  part  of  the  deer 
for  dear  life.  The  hound  follows  with  untiring  zeal,  ever  and 
anon,  as  the  trail  of  the  deer  he  has  in  pursuit  freshens  upon 
his  scent,  sounding  his  baying  bugle,  a  welcome  warning  to 
the  listening  and  panting  deer,  who,  as  his  pursuer  thus  indi- 
cates his  point  of  approach  again,  "  bounding  forward  free  and 
far,"  seeks  the  dense  covert  in  some  distant  retreat.  But 
though  the  deer  may  for  the  time  outstrip  his  foe  by  superior 
fleetness,  the  latter  holds  to  the  chase  with  greater  endurance, 
and  as  a  last  resort,  in  order  to  throw  his  enemy  off  the  scent 
of  his  track,  the  deer  takes  to  the  lake  or  river,  where  the 
huntsmen,  who  know  his  usual  path  of  flight,  are  lying  in 
ambush  for  him.  As  soon  as  the  deer  has  made  a  sufficient 
progress  in  the  water  to  prevent  his  return,  they  take  to  their 
boats,  and,  by  superior  progress  with  the  oar,  secure  the  cov- 
eted game.  The  number  taken  in  this  way  in  these  northern 
lakes  is  large,  and  unless  the  hound  is  soon  withdrawn  from 
this  destructive  chase,  we  shall  be  compelled  to  bid  adieu  to 
these  noble  animals. 

Indian  Lake  township  has  its  courts  for  trying  breaches  of 
the  peace,  as  well  as  more  settled  places,  albeit  a  competent 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  17 

official  has  to  be  sought  with  much  travel.  A  case  of  this  kind 
occurred  yesterday.  A  hunter  passing  through  one  of  the  out- 
of-the-way  paths  came  upon  a  lonely  settler  who  was  beating 
his  wife  with  a  club.  The  blood  was  flowing  freely  from  her 
wounds.  The  cowardly  brute  fled  at  his  approach,  and  as  he 
assisted  the  poor  woman  to  rise,  she  besought  him  to  enter  a 
complaint  against  her  husband. 

He  accordingly  did  so,  after  much  travel  and  trouble,  but 
when  the  case  came  on  before  the  Justice,  the  woman  would 
not  swear  against  her  husband.  She  said  they  had  some  con- 
tention, and  he  "  chucked  "  her  a  little,  but  she  guessed  she 
had  used  some  hard  words  to  him  ;  on  the  whole  it  did  not 
amount  to  much,  and  they  would  get  along  well  enough  if 
other  people  would  let  them  alone.  The  Justice  was  com- 
pelled to  dismiss  the  case  for  want  of  evidence,  and  the  recon- 
ciled pair  started  off  very  lovingly  for  their  shelter  in  the 
woods,  probably  to  repeat  the  same  wrangling  and  "  chuck- 
ing "  on  the  first  convenient  opportunity.  It  is  but  a  repeti- 
tion of  an  old  story  of  woman's  trust  and  forgiveness,  and  her 
patient  endurance  of  suffering  rather  than  to  part  from  a 
brutal  husband.  The  hunter  was  satisfied  that  it  was  a  thank- 
less job  to  interfere  in  a  matrimonial  quarrel,  and  informed 
the  court  that  man  and  wife  might  fight  it  out  the  next  time 
without  his  meddling  with  the  affair. 

Indian  lake  and  its  tributaries  abound  with  trout,  and  it  is  a 
pleasant  occupation  to  sit  in  a  boat  on  the  lake  and  watch 
them  springing  at  full  length  above  the  surface  for  a  passing 
insect  or  some  floating  tempting  morsel.  The  points  of  in- 
tersection of  the  cold  water  brooks  attract  the  "speckled 
beauties,"  and  the  angler  finds  capital  sport  in  throwing  the 
fly  and  playing  them  skillfully  to  land.  The  Alderman  is  in 
his  glory,  and  exhibits  the  same  inventive  faculty,  patient 
perseverance  and  ready  resources,  which  have  marked  and 
made  his  success  in  the  business  affairs  of  life.  As  he  lands 
one  of  the  finny  treasures,  as  broad  as  your  hand,  there  is  a 
quiet  glow  of  satisfaction,  demonstrative  that  the  exploit  was 
done  in  the  first  style  of  old  Walton's  art.  The  pleasurable 


18  FOKEST    AND    LAKE. 

excitement,  the  vigorous  exercise  with  the  oar,  the  bracing 
atmosphere,  and  the  plain  but  genial  food,  are  doing  their 
beneficial  work  on  weakened  muscle  and  sluggish  digestive 
powers,  engendered  by  sedentary  pursuits. 

Shut  in  by  lofty  mountain  ranges  and  far  removed  from 
sources  of  mental  excitement,  memory  feeds  the  mind  with 
pleasant  and  painful  experiences.  Airy  voices  come  to  my 
ear  as  returns  the  hour  when  — 

'Neath  the  folds  of  the  snowy  drapery 

Lieth  the  form  so  still  and  cold: 
O'er  the  pulseless  heart  the  white  hands  rest  — 

O'er  the  pallid  brow  were  tresses  of  gold  ; 
But  the  waxen  lids  droop  heavily  now 

O'er  the  hazel  shade  of  the  beautiful  eye. 
And  the  lips  once  ruby  are  ashen  and  pale, 

No  more  will  they  smile,  no  more  will  they  sigh, 
But  bravely  she  crossed  the  dark  river, 

Nor  shrank  from  its  cold  rolling  wave. 
For  though  lost  to  our  sight  here  forever, 

Faith  lighted  the  gloom  of  the  grave. 

These  thoughts  may  be  intrusive  to  the  reader,  however 
absorbing  to  this  hour  and  place.  To  look  within  our  own 
hearts,  and  commune  with  spirit  teachings,  there  is  no  place 
more  congenial  than  the  solitudes  of  Nature. 

To-morrow  we  start  for  Lewis  lake,  which  to  reach  will  re- 
quire some  ten  miles  rowing,  up  the  river  of  the  same  name. 

No.  III. 

My  last  left  us  in  preparation  for  an  adventure  up  Lewis 
river.  The  delicacies  we  laid  in  for  the  excursion  were, 
about  half  a  bushel  of  potatoes,  a  magnificent  chunk  of  salt 
pork,  a  few  loaves  of  bread  with  an  allowance  of  butter,  salt 
and  tea,  and  last  but  not  least  in  account,  a  roll  of  blankets. 
Into  two  small  boats  we  packed  ourselves  and  traps,  includ- 
ing a  guide  for  each  boat,  who  acted  as  oarsmen,  and  an 
intelligent-looking  dog  belonging  to  them,  who  was  ac- 
quainted, by  long  practice,  with  the  track  of  deer.  Our 


FOKEST   AND    LAKE.  19 

progress  was  nearer  a  "  zig-zag  "  than  I  ever  remember  of 
traveling  before.  After  turning  a  point,  in  several  instances 
we  found  we  were  "advancing  backward,"  and  though  pulled 
by  lusty  oars  we  marked  our  passage  on  the  mountain  side  by 
slow  gradations.  Ever  and  anon  the  sweeping  wings  and 
long  legs  of  a  crane  would  rise  to  view,  startled  from  his 
feeding  grounds  by  intrusive  and  unusual  visitors.  Numer- 
ous hawks  wheeled  in  graceful  gyrations  overhead,  as  if  watch  - 
ing  and  wondering  at  the  scene.  Broods  of  black  ducks  rose 
occasionally  as  if  averse  to  too  close  acquaintance.  Arriving 
at  the  forks  where  Jessup  river  unites  with  the  Lewis,  we 
threw  our  lines  and  caught  a  few  trout  of  quite  moderate 
dimensions,  but  better  than  none,  where  the  prospective  of  a 
dinner  is  bounded  only  by  pork  and  potatoes.  Let  us  not  be 
deemed  to  speak  disparagingly,  however,  of  this  great  staple, 
the  culinary  department  in  forest  life.  We  bear  grateful 
testimony  to  a  slice  of  raw  pork,  peppered  and  sandwiched 
between  slices  from  a  loaf,  eaten  at  a  temporary  halt  on  a 
well  packed  tramp.  Stall-fed  epicures  may  find  it  difficult  to 
appreciate  such  a  repast,  but  they  will  be  equally  at  a  loss  to 
realize  the  active  and  buoyant  existence  which  an  appetite 
reconciled  to  such  fare  promotes. 

Jessup  river  at  this  junction  has  long  been  famous  as  a 
trouting  ground.  But  as  elsewhere  in  this  region,  the  exten- 
sive drought  had  greatly  reduced  its  waters,  and  there  was 
little  enticement  for  delay.  As  we  left  the  Forks  (so  called, 
we  suppose,  from  the  union  at  this  point  of  another  small 
stream),  we  pushed  our  way  up  the  Lewis  river,  now  a 
greatly  reduced  channel.  Our  oarsmen  were  repeatedly 
obliged  to  wade  and  drag  the  boats  over  bars  and  sunken 
branches,  making  slow  progress.  About  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
below  Lewis  lake  the  Falls  commence,  against  which  the  oar 
is  useless.  The  cargo  must  here  be  landed,  and  the  boats  are 
borne  on  stalwart  shoulders  by  a  forest  path  and  placed  in  the 
lower  end  of  the  lake. 

Lewis  lake  lies  in  the  north-eastern  part  of  Hamilton  county, 
and  is  a  water  basin  of  great  beauty.  Lifted  many  feet  above 


20  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

the  overflow  of  Indian  lake,  vegetable  life-  grows  rank  and 
luxuriant,  and  forms  a  fitting  casket  for  so  pure  a  gem.  Our 
boats  cleaved  the  narrow  outlet,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  a 
paradise  of  verdure  on  either  side,  when  the  lake  burst  upon 
the  vision.  Something  of  the  stirring  emotions  which  attend 
the  discovery  of  explorers  where  the  foot  of  man  is  supposed 
never  to  have  fallen,  was  felt  as  our  boats  rode  its  waters  for 
a  mile  and  a  half  to  the  inlet  shore.  To  us  it  was  new 
ground,  as  though  struck  at  once  from  the  mint  of  creation, 
without  vestige  of  the  presence  of  fellow-men.  But  we  were 
soon  undeceived  as  to  a  supposed  sole  occupancy.  Our  boats 
had  scarcely  struck  the  beach,  when  a  young  man  emerged 
from  the  path  leading  to  the  principal  shanty  at  the  lake. 
He  was  soon  followed  by  his  companion,  both  having  the  un- 
mistakable contour  of  student  life,  with  the  pulpit  in  view. 
We  learned  they  had  come  in  that  morning,  to  try  the  fishing, 
and  they  soon  left  in  a  boat  to  cast  their  lines.  We  explored  the 
woods,  and  were  fortunate  in  finding  a  bark  shanty,  covered 
on  three  sides,  with  a  fire-place  constructed  of  stones  in  front. 
Here  we  piled  the  logs  for  our  night  fire,  gathered  hemlock 
bough  tips  for  our  bed,  and  not  yet  reconciled  to  pork  and 
potatoes  as  full  fare,  entered  our  boats  again  and  tempted  the 
trout  at  the  inlet.  They  were  in  sluggish  mood,  refusing  to 
rise  at  the  fly,  but  a  few  were  deluded  by  the  sunken  bait, 
and  made  captives.  Here  all  the  rules  of  fishermen  art  were 
at  fault.  Our  light  and  delicate  trappings,  falling  noiselessly 
upon  the  water,  came  off  second  best.  A  clumsy  tackling  of 
one  of  our  guides,  falling  with  a  loud  splash  into  the  stream, 
took  the  only  fine  trout  of  the  evening.  We  have  read  some- 
where of  an  illustration  by  an  experienced  divine,  instructing 
a  younger  brother  in  the  ministry  how  to  fish  for  souls. 
"Now,"  says  he,  "you  must  imitate  the  example  of  the  skill- 
ful angler  in  your  labors.  He  does  not  cast  his  line  with  a 
noisy  rough  throw,  as  if  saying  to  his  expected  prey,  '  bite  or 

be  d d.'but  gently  extends  the  enticing  morsel,  and  wins 

them  to  his  embrace."  Our  case,  at  least,  was  an  exception 
to  this  rule.  The  biggest  fish  was  caught  on  the  other  style, 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  21 

after  a  ke-chunk  of  a  heavily  loaded  line.  On  returning,  we 
overtook  our  student  acquaintances,  and  on  comparing  notes 
we  found  they  had  not  taken  a  scale,  and  a  repetition  of  the 
same  luck  in  the  morning  induced  them  to  abandon  the  lake 
in  disgust. 

Night  in  the  wilderness,  with  the  bright  broad  canopy  above, 
seen  through  the  interlacing  branches  of  majestic  trees,  has  a 
charm  all  its  own.  As  the  heavily-logged  fire  snaps  and 
crackles,  and  the  tree  tops  are  rustled  by  the  breeze  into 
majestic  symphony,  sleep  holds  itself  aloof,  and  the  mind 
wanders,  quickened  to  unwonted  activity  by  the  surroundings 
Occasionally  the  melancholy  scream  of  the  Great  Northern 
Diver,  from  the  bosom  of  the  adjacent  lake,  or  the  "  tuvvhit — 
towho-o-o,"  of  the  night  owl,  familiar  to  these  parts,  recall 
the  dreamer  to  the  locality.  Slumber,  deep  and  refreshing, 
comes  at  length,  and  from  the  couch  of  hemlock  twigs  the 
sleeper  rises  early,  more  elastic  than  from  a  feathery  nest, 
ready  for  the  engagements  of  the  day. 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  THE  NORTH  WOODS. 

August,  1867. 

The  city  toiler  who  breaks  away  from  the  sedentary  routine 
of  office  duty  to  become  a  student  of  Nature  in  her  wildest 
aspects,  and  a  participator  in  the  excitements  of  camp  life, 
strikes  a  vein  of  enjoyment  and  a  source  of  healthful  in- 
fluences. Even  the  weary  and  often  exhausting  efforts,  under 
the  burden  of  a  weighty  knapsack,  in  filing  through  the  rough 
paths  of  the  wilderness,  find  their  abundant  compensation  in 
the  repose  around  the  camp-fire  after  the  day's  toil.  In  the 
flashes  leaping  and  curling  upward  from  the  burning  logs, 
gilding  the  leafy  canopy  of  towering  trees,  through  whose 
network  the  heavens  display  their  glory,  while  the  far-spread- 
ing lake  is  speaking  through  myriad  wavelets  breaking  upon 
the  sandy  beach,  there  is  an  inspiring  accompaniment  to  the 


22  FOKEST   AND    LAKE. 

stories  of  former  experience  with  the  rod  and  guii,  making  the 
flying  hours  a  prelude  to  the  night's  rest  upon  a  bed  of  hem- 
lock tips. 

The  route  to  Fort  Edward  by  the  flying  locomotive  is  but 
the  experience  of  ordinary  steam  traveling  where  incident 
is  not  expected,  and  the  only  concern  is  to  span  inter- 
vening points  in  the  quickest  time.  Here  the  iron  horse 
leaves  us  for  more  primitive  means  of  travel,  and  the  stage- 
coach exhibits  the  mechanical  success  of  squeezing  the  largest 
amount  of  humanity  into  the  smallest  possible  compass  from 
which  the  occupants  can  be  taken  out  alive.  Passing  over  a 
sandy  flat,  the  Half- Way  House  to  Lake  George  uniformly 
waters  the  horses  and  offers  additional  beverages  to  those  who 
dislike  to  give  up  the  custom  of  traveling  by  steam. 

The  historic  grounds  of  Warren  county  have  their  perma- 
nent landmarks  in  the  monument  erected  to  Gen.  Williams, 
and  in  Bloody  Pond  adjacent,  and  carry  the  observer  back  to 
the  days  of  the  French  and  Indian  Wars,  when  human  slaugh- 
ter wore  its  fiercest  aspects,  and  to  conquer  or  die  was  less  a 
choice  than  a  necessity.  The  panorama  of  dale  and  mountain, 
with  its  far-stretch  of  cultivated  fields  and  frequent  village 
indentations,  catches  the  admiring  eye  from  an  elevation  soon 
after  leaving  Glens  Falls,  forming  one  of  the  finest  views  on 
the  route  to  North  Woods.  After  a  ten-mile  ride,  as  the  road 
leads  down  the  summit,  the  far-stretch  of  Lake  George  is  a 
picture  of  rare  beauty.  Soon  we  reach  the  county  seat  of 
Warren,  an  attractive  summer  resort  to  those  who  can  ex- 
change brick-walled  marts  of  trade  during  the  heated  term 
for  the  avenues  of  lake  and  forest,  the  earnest  of  the  wilder- 
ness stretching  far  beyond.  The  village  of  Warrensburg  is  a 
jewel  in  this  rough  setting,  and  its  neatness  and  quiet  beauty 
arrest  the  traveler's  eye,  suggesting  the  fancy  that  it  may 
have  been  dropped  ready-made  into  a  picturesque  locality. 
Here  are  several  elegant  buildings  which  would  be  noted  for 
their  finish  and  surroundings  in  more  pretentious  settlements. 
An  extensive  tannery  is  a  profitable  business  resource  of  the 
place.  While  tarrying  here  for  dinner,  one  of  our  party  had 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  23 

occasion  to  examine  his  traveling  bag,  but  the  discovery  made 
and  the  comments  elicited  cannot  touch  the  reader  as  it  did 
the  interested  party  grouped  around  the  remains  of  what  had 
been  once  fair  to  the  eye.  It  was  more  regretful  to  the  loser, 
from  the  fact  that  it  had  been  presented  to  him  by  a  thought- 
ful parishioner  to  meet  the  need  of  a  possible  contingency  in 
the  exposures  and  dangers  of  wilderness  life.  In  the  reminis- 
cences of  after  years,  we  have  no  doubt  the  little  band  there 
assembled  will  be  with  the  scene  in  all  its  primal  freshness 
and  spirit,  though  far  sundered  in  the  flesh. 

From  Warrensburg  to  Johnsburg  is  another  staging  of 
about  the  same  distance:  but  the  heavy  globe-like  stage-coach 
is  here  exchanged  for  the  lesser  demands  of  travel,  and  a 
two-horse  wagon  takes  the  mail  and  such  comers  as  may  need 
transportation.  In  the  summer  season  passengers  are  mainly 
of  the  class  like  our  party,  bound  for  the  woods.  The  scenery 
now  takes  on  a  rougher  aspect,  the  mountains  looming  up 
still  grander,  often  with  seamed  and  scarred  fronts,  as  if  the 
ages  were  stamping  their  wearing  work  upon  them. 

Soon  after  leaving  Warrensburg  the  Hudson  river  rolls  in 
sight,  and  the  road  runs  for  many  miles  on  its  banks,  often 
cut  upon  the  precipitous  sides  of  a  mountain,  where  the  earth 
above  wears  a  threatening  look  of  a  slide,  and  the  descent  is  so 
sheer  that  the  traveler  is  reminded  of  the  midway  perils  of 
Scilla  and  Charybdis.  About  half  way  between  the  two 
villages  is  "  The  Glen,"  an  embryo  settlement  consisting  of 
three  modest  tenements,  one  of  which  is  a  "  watering"  place. 
Here  the  route  crosses  the  Hudson  by  a  spacious  and  high 
covered  bridge,  and' the  river,  though  still  comparatively  nar- 
row, begins  to  take  on  some  of  the  larger  proportions  of  its  after 
grandeur  of  sweep .  If  any  loosening  and  friction  of  the  joints 
and  muscles  were  necessary  for  an  introduction  to  the  disci- 
pline of  the  woods,  it  is  most  effectually  accomplished  by  the 
staging  up  and  down  on  this  part  of  the  journey. 

Johnsburg  can  hardly  be  called  a  place  of  growing  im- 
portance, the  only  noticeable  addition,  during  the  seven  years 
the  writer  has  annually  supped  there,  being  an  elegant  house 


24  FOKKST   AND   LAKE. 

recently  erected  by  Mr.  Robert  Waddle,  who  is  the  leading 
business  man  of  the  place.  The  public  house  is  kept  by  his 
brother,  who  is  totally  blind.  Yet  he  moves  about  the 
premises  as  though  the  full  light  of  day  flashed  within,  and 
greets  the  arriving  visitors  whom  he  has  met  before  with  a 
hearty  welcome  by  name,  guided  to  the  recognition  solely 
by  the  sound  of  their  voice.  He  converses  freely  like  one 
cognizant  of  passing  events,  apparently  seeing  as  much 
through  the  eyes  of  others  as  they  do  themselves. 

One  more  (and  the  last)  staging  is  from  Johnsburg  to  North 
River,  about  twelve  miles  distant,  following  the  bank  of  the 
river.  This  is  a  settlement  made  up  of  about  thirty  houses, 
a  small  house  of  worship  with  no  regular  service,  owing  to 
the  sparseness  of  population,  two  hotels,  and  a  store.  The 
public  houses  find  profitable  custom  from  summer  hunting 
parties  who  take  this,  the  usual  route  into  the  southern  camp- 
ing grounds  of  the  Adirondacks,  and  from  their  guides,  who 
on  their  return  take  the  earliest  opportunity  to  transfer  their 
liberal  wages  into  the  hotel  cash-box,  and  wait  for  another 
chance  to  recruit.  The  residents  find  occupation  at  tilling 
the  soil  during  the  summer  months,  but  lumbering  is  the 
main  dependence.  As  soon  as  the  demands  of  the  soil  have 
ceased,  labor  seeks  the  lumber  regions  which  commence,  and 
finds  good  remuneration  in  felling  the  pine,  spruce  and 
hemlock.  The  logs  are  drawn  to  the  borders  of  the  nearest 
water-course,  which  in  winter,  when  the  heavy  snows  make  a 
broad  highway,  is  a  comparatively  easy  task,  and  when  the 
spring  freshets  come  they  are  sent  on  their  downward  destina- 
tion to  Glens  Falls.  To  secure  their  passage,  which  is  often 
interrupted  by  becoming  wedged  together  forming  a  "jam," 
men  known  as  "river  drivers"  are  employed  at  $5  per 
day,  to  follow  the  floating  treasure  and  keep  it  in  motion. 
The  occupation  is  full  of  peril,  the  drivers  often  being  com- 
pelled to  force  their  way  among  the  wedged  logs,  through  the 
turbulent  waters,  needing  a  quick  eye  and  active  limbs  to  avoid 
danger.  With  the  utmost  caution  they  occasionally  fall  vic- 
tims in  the  treacherous  contest.  The  lumbering  is  carried  on 


FOKEST   AND   LAKE.  25 

by  companies,  each  of  whom  has  an  ownership  mark  which 
is  registered  in  the  State  Archives  at  Albany.  This  brand  is 
stamped  on  the  butt  of  each  log  owned  by  a  company,  and  the  de- 
facing or  imitating  of  which  is  an  offense  severely  punishable. 

On  leaving  North  River  we  take  our  last  look  at  the  outside 
world  and  apparel  for  the  woods.  And  here  is  a  proper  place 
to  introduce  my  companions,  whom  I  shall  designate  as  George, 
Hyatt  and  John.  George  is  one  of  the  pioneer  hunters  of  the 
North  Woods.  He  is  one  of  a  trio,  with  Chauncey  and  Crit, 
who  have  carried  their  hunting  and  fishing  implements  over 
a  large  portion  of  the  mountain  ranges  of  the  Adirondacks, 
and  kindled  their  camp-fires  on  the  borders  of  its  numerous 
lakes.  In  the  pursuit  of  deer  their  "jack"  lights  have 
flashed  by  night  into  every  bend  of  lake  and  river,  familiar 
visitants,  and  their  successful  guns  waked  the  echoes  far  and 
wide  through  the  mountain  passes  of  this  region.  George 
takes  to  a  hunter's  life  as  one  to  the  manner  born  —  fertile  in 
resources,  strong  in  endurance,  and  skillful  in  execution. 
Hyatt  was  the  philosopher  and  humorist  of  the  party,  ready 
for  any  emergency,  with  willing  hand  and  cheerful  word. 
John  was  on  his  experimental  trip  to  the  North  Woods,  yet 
was  destined  to  win  his  diploma  for  whatever  he  turned  his 
hand  to,  and  his  constructive  skill  was  of  good  account. 

Our  luggage,  or  that  portion  of  it  deemed  essential  for  the 
camp  —  always  over-estimated  in  quantity  —  was  placed  on  a 
heavy  wagon  drawn  by  two  stalwart  horses.  Our  day's  desti- 
nation was  to  Dick  Jackson's,  at  Cedar  river,  a  distance  of 
fourteen  miles.  It  was  too  much  like  work  at  the  opening  to 
be  called  a  pleasure  tramp.  It  frequently  was  a  diversion,  be- 
sides enlarging  our  stock  of  scientific  knowledge,  to  sit  down 
at  short  ranges  on  the  verdant  banks,  and  deliberate  on  the 
botanic  specimens  which  grew  so  luxuriant  around  us.  We 
never  could  see  the  philosophy  in  such  a  situation  of 
traveling  as  if  escaping  from  fire,  pestilence  and  famine,  and 
were  scant  of  time  to  accomplish  the  job.  This  hint  may  ex- 
plain why  two  of  the  party  on  the  tramp  sat  down  seini-occa- 
sionally  to  examine  the  state  of  their  heels. 
3 


26  FOHEST   AND   LAKE. 

Griffin's  clearing  is  one  of  the  landmarks  of  this  region,  a 
place  for  the  accommodation  of  man  and  beast.  There  we 
paused  with  five  miles  of  our  destination  yet  before  us.  At  this 
point  we  caught  sight  of  the  towering  peak  of  Blue  mountain, 
looming  in  the  far  distance  above  all  other  peaks,  and  at  whose 
base  lay  the  queen  of  lakes,  where  our  camp  altars  were  to  be 
erected.  The  sight  put  new  life  into  us. 

Our  route  lay  over  the  Indian  river,  which  we  soon  reached. 
Standing  upon  the  bridge  which  spanned  it,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach  on  either  side  was  one  dense  mass  of  logs  packed 
so  close  as  to  entirely  shut  the  water  from  view.  These  logs 
were  not  sufficiently  advanced  to  take  advantage  of  last 
spring's  freshet,  and  now  waited  the  next  moving  of  the 
waters. 

We  passed  Hoxie's  Variety  Store  at  Indian  river,  where 
hunters  are  supplied  with  the  requisite  articles  for  their  occu- 
pation. It  is  also  a  post-office  delivery  by  courtesy,  and  the 
mails  are  carried  out  and  brought  in  once  a  week  by  a  boy  on 
horseback.  Hoxie  is  one  of  the  originals  of  the  North  Woods, 
and  a  sketch  of  his  hunting  career  would  be  an  interesting 
narrative.  But  we  must  leave  that  to  others  more  conversant 
with  his  versatile  career  in  that  wild  region. 

Jackson's  fine  clearing  in  the  valley  of  the  Cedar  river  is  in 
view,  and  we  know  from  experience  there  is  all  the  weary 
traveler  can  ask  in  store  for  us.  As  a  housekeeper,  Mrs. 
Jackson  is  appreciated  by  all  who  have  sat  down  to  the  table 
prepared  by  her,  and  it  is  made  a  double  relish,  by  her  pleas- 
ant welcome.  Richard  Jackson's  clearing  comprises  over  three 
hundred  acres  in  the  river  valley,  and  &  finer  farm  is  not  often 
seen,  if  the  luxuriance  of  its  crops  is  any  basis  of  judgment. 
Grass,  oats,  rye,  barley,  buckwheat,  potatoes  and  ruta  bagas, 
all  were  in  a  condition  which  told  the  successful  hand  of  labor 
and  the  strength  of  the  soil.  Last  year  he  harvested  one  thou- 
sand two  hundred  bushels  of  oats  —  this  year  about  one  thou- 
sand was  the  estimate.  It  may  be  asked  where  is  the  market 
for  such  crops  at  this  out-of-the-way  place  ?  We  answer  that 
the  winter's  demand  of  the  lumbering  interest  takes  all  he 


FOKEST   AND   L.AKE.  27 

can  spare,  at  prices  much  higher  than  our  Dutchess  farmers 
ever  realize. 

A  good  night's  rest  —  the  last  between  sheets  we  were  to 
have  for  many  nights  —  with  a  bountiful  morning's  repast,  pre- 
pared us  for  the  outward  forest  stretch.  Our  luggage  was 
again  taken  in  charge  by  Mr.  Jackson's  team  and  driver,  and 
we  took  to  the  woods  beyond  his  clearing,  with  eight  miles 
between  us  and  Rock  river.  We  had  procured  a  boat  of  Jack- 
son and  forwarded  it  by  the  wagon.  Reaching  Rock  river  we 
landed  our  boat  and  shipped  our  cargo,  but  had  struck  our 
oars  only  a  few  times,  when  we  espied  Chauncey  approaching 
in  a  boat.  We  were  to  be  tenants  of  his  cabin  grounds  at 
Blue  Mountain  lake,  and  the  meeting  at  this  point  was  in  ac- 
cordance with  previous  arrangements. 

We  have  alluded  to  the  newcomer  as  one  of  the  trio  of  well- 
known  hunters  in  the  Xortli  Woods.  Chauncey  Hathron  is  en- 
titled to  something  more  than  a  passing  notice  in  this  narrative. 
Seven  years  ago  he  was  engaged  in  mercantile  business  in 
Saratoga.  Failing  health  induced  him  to  spend  a  few  weeks 
in  the  North  Woods,  and  the  restoring  influences  of  the  change 
were  so  manifest  that  he  gave  up  his  business  and  made  his 
home  in  these  solitudes.  Of  late  years  his  comfortable  cabin 
is  on  the  border  of  Blue  Mountain  lake,  where,  with  his  two 
dogs  as  his  constant  companions,  he  traverses  in  all  seasons 
the  dense  forests  in  every  direction,  launching  his  boats  and 
casting  his  lines  in  the  cluster  of  waters,  and  gathering  veni- 
son and  trout  for  Lake  George,  Saratoga,  and  other  summer 
resorts.  "Old  Trim,"  his  eldest  canine  companion,  is  known 
and  admired  far  and  near  through  these  forest  haunts  as  a 
model  of  his  breed,  and  his  sonorous  bay  is  a  pretty  sure  in- 
dication that  his  swift  and  unerring  feet  are  tracking  the  fly- 
ing deer  to  its  water  refuge.  Trim  captured  his  first  d.eer  with 
the  aid  of  our  companion  George,  and  hence  always  welcomes 
his  revisits  to  his  forest  home  with  especial  recognition.  The 
tourist  in  the  Adirondacks  is  fortunate  in  securing  the  chap- 
eronnge  of  Chauncey  and  his  canine  companions.  If  the  deer 
and  trout  are  at  such  times  within  the  reach  of  hunter  or  angler 


28  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

skill,  he  can  count  safely  upon  an  exciting  and  successful 
season. 

But  to  return  from  our  digression,  to  the  launching  of  our 
boat  on  Rock  river,  where  Chauncey  took  us  in  charge.  This 
is  a  sinuous  and  rapid  stream,  in  many  places  deep,  where  the 
fallen  trees  prong  out  thickly,  making  the  rower's  task  still 
more  twisting,  if  possible,  than  the  line  of  the  crooked  waters. 
It  is  an  accretion  from  the  springs  which  flow  bounteously 
from  the  mountains  adjacent,  and  its  prevailing  icy  tempera- 
ture makes  it  one  of  the  finest  trout  streams  of  the  region. 
Its  marshy  banks  are  also  favorite  feeding  places  for  deer. 
The  noble  large  stuffed  buck's  head,  ornamenting  the  walls 
of  Kuhn's  International  Restaurant  in  our  city,  was  captured 
by  George  a  few  years  since  upon  this  river. 

After  a  six  miles  row  we  struck  the  landing  from  which  a 
path  across  the  base  of  the  mountain  leads  to  Chauncey's 
cabin,  about  a  mile  distant;  leaving  George  and  Chauncey  at 
the  cabin  to  rehearse  old  times,  the  rest  of  us  chose  to  begin 
camp  life  in  a  comfortable  bark  shanty  a  few  rods  distant  on 
the  beach,  whose  white,  even  and  hard-beaten  sand  was  a  wel- 
come change  from  the  wild  and  rough  tramp  of  the  inner 
forest. 

This  magnificent  expanse  of  water  is  put  down  on  some 
maps  as  Lake  Emmons.  But  we  prefer  to  call  it  by  the  more 
familiar  name  in  hunter  vocabulary,  of  Blue  Mountain  —  its 
godfather,  around  whose  lofty  summit  white  mists  linger  and 
clouds  dally,  looking  down  in  sentinel  duty  over  it.  Of  the 
numerous  wafer  basins,  stretching  out  to  the  vision  from  the 
summit  of  the  mountain,  there  is  none  to  surpass,  few  to  com- 
pare with  this  lake,  in  the  grandeur  of  its  surroundings  or  its 
surface  beauty.  Twenty-two  islands,  some  of  them  acres  in 
extent  and  covered  with  evergreens,  intersect  the  view  and 
add  their  ever- varying  charms. 

The  closing  of  the  shades  of  night  was  a  signal  of  repose. 
Chauncey  had  fallen  a  hemlock  and  its  tips  were  gathered  for 
our  mattress  use.  Spreading  our  rubber  blankets  over  them, 
with  knapsacks  for  pillows  and  a  blanket  covering,  we  looked 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  29 

out  upon  the  blazing  logs  just  beyond  the  safety  line,  and 
watched  the  curling  flames  shooting  up  as  if  to  reach  the 
lights  of  heaven,  which  gleamed  down  through  the  fluttering 
leaves,  whose  rustling  music  was  another  impalpable  key 
''  striking  the  electric  chain  wherewith  we  are  darkly  bound." 
But  all  the  poetry  of  the  scene,  and  the  slumber  which  be- 
longed more  essentially  to  the  hour,  were  ruthlessly  dashed 
by  Hyatt's  inexhaustible  drolleries,  who  seemed  determined 
to  celebrate  our  advent  to  camp  life  with  lively  demonstra- 
tions of  regard.  What  with  ''poking  up  the  fire  "  by  add- 
ing rapid  combustibles,  until  we  began  to  fear  for  the  safety 
of  our  shanty,  and  poking  up  our  risibles  by  equally  sparkling 
jokes,  the  light  and  laughter  shook  out  from  the  domain  of 
silence  all  its  darkness  and  gravity,  and  bluffed  off  for  a  time 
even  the  screech  owls,  who  had  commenced  their  solemn 
voices  of  the  night. 

Morning  came,  and  with  it  the  necessity  for  a  breakfast. 
At  the  entrance  upon  camp  life  this  need  is  but  moderately 
pressing,  but  each  day  brings  its  increase  of  appetite,  until 
the  approach  of  a  repast  is  regarded  with  absorbing  interest, 
and  rations  are  consumed,  whicli  to  the  often  coy  and  dainty 
appetite  of  city  life  would  have  been  regarded  as  an  awful 
punishment.  Our  table  was  independent  of  carving  and 
polish  —  very  simple  in  form  and  structural  detail.  The 
nearest  approach  to  varnish  was  what  had  been  left  upon  it 
by  the  insufficient  action  of  the  dishcloth.  Seats  were  im- 
provised which  answered  all  the  purposes  of  the  best  uphol- 
stered article.  A  cooking  stove  was  transferred  from 
Chauncey's  cabin,  and  tin  cups  and  plates,  knives  and  forks 
of  different  and  antique  patterns,  with  other  minor  append- 
ages of  primitive  housekeeping,  constituted  a  sufficient  set- 
ting out  for  a  camp,  proving  that  there  is  one  condition  at 
least  where  it  is  true  that  "  man  wants  but  little  here  below." 

I  am  not  going  into  the  details  of  our  pantry  and  cooking, 
further  than  to  say,  that  hung  upon  trees  adjacent  were  some 
fine  specimens  of  native  meat,  and  that  trout  were  ready  in 
abundance  for  the  stove  before  their  flecked  raiment  had  lost 


30  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

its  gold  and  purple  lustre.  And  if  any  doubt  exists  as  to 
Ckauncey's  ability  to  make  sucli  supplies  palatable,  we  inter- 
pose the  voucher,  that  the  table  rarely  had  enough  left  upon 
it  "  for  manners,"  or  the  dogs.  But  we  cannot  leave  our 
table  department,  sanctified  to  memory  by  Hyatt's  regular 
appeal  to  "  fry  the  pork  crisp,"  without  replying,  at  least  so 
far  as  our  camp  was  concerned,  to  a  lady  correspondent  of  the 
New  York  Sunday  Times,  who  thus  discourses  : — 

"Those  amateur  sportsmen  who  camp  out  for  weeks  every 
summer  would  resent  any  imputations  upon  their  neatness; 
but  oh,  what  pots  and  pans  and  gridirons  have  been  seen  in 
the  improvised  pot-closet  in  a  tent  up  in  the  woods  !  What 
dishes  !  what  knives !  what  towels  whereupon  they  wipe 
every  thing  from  a  goblet  to  a  fish  !  They  call  it.  primitive 
housekeeping  —  and  that  it  is!  Pepper  and  tobacco  lie  in 
friendly  contiguity  to  the  bit  of  pork  that  is  to  give  a  zest  to 
the  dinner  of  birds  (not  herbs).  Pipes  and  bread  are  not  far 
apart,  and  a  jack-knife  thrust  into  the  butter  answers  every 
purpose.  Think  of  these  degenerate  Nimrods,  so  dainty  at 
home  that  a  speck  of  dust  on  a  table,  or  a  little  roughness  of 
starch  on  a  shirt  collar,  is  not  to  be  tolerated  for  a  moment! 
But  put  them,  as  it  were,  where  like  Peter,  they  have  only  to 
'  Arise,  kill  and  eat,'  and  oh  !  what  horrible  things  they  will 
do  under  the  general  head  of  '  camping  out  ! '  When  fish 
succeeds  fish  they  do  not  waste  time  washing  disbes,  and  day 
after  day  the  same  proprietor  claims  the  same  cup  and  knife 
and  fork." 

This  writer  must  have  been  relating  her  experience  among 
the  heathen  !  We  can  vouch  that  our  dishes  were  regularly 
washed  —  although  when  getting  ready  for  a  day's  outing,  it 
must  be  confessed  the  dish  water  was  sometimes  hurried 
through  its  office.  And  as  to  the  scandalous  allusion  to 
towels,  had  the  writer  witnessed,  as  we  did  repeatedly,  Hyatt 
putting  our  dish-wiper  through  a  solution  of  soap  and  water, 
she  would  have  been  convinced  that  there  were  exceptions  to 
her  censure.  Granted  that  some  neophyte  in  housekeeping 
among  us,  with  more  zeal  than  knowledge,  may  have  acci- 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  31 

dentally  used  the  pot-clotli  instead  of  the  dish  towel  (we  had 
both),  yet  where  is  even  the  best  regulated  kitchen  in  which 
some  mistakes  do  not  occur  ? 

An  afternoon  excursion  in  boats  down  the  lake  brought  to 
view  two  deers  feeding  leisurely  upon  the  bank  of  the  lake. 
We  watched  them  intently  for  a  long  time,  then  as  we 
approached  they  loped  into  the  woods.  Six  or  eight  years 
.ago  the  deer  in  this  region  had  been  comparatively  so  little 
disturbed  that  they  roamed  freely  in  the  day-time,  and  were 
no  unusual  sight  to  the  hunter.  Now  it  is  changed.  They 
rarely  come  down  to  the  lake  until  darkness  hides  them  from 
view. 

"  Watching  for  deer"  is  a  pastime  requiring  time,  patience 
and  sharpness  of  vision.  To  Hyatt  and  myself,  on  one  occa- 
sion, was  assigned  a  position  on  an  island  at  the  lower  end  of 
the  lake.  We  commenced  duty  in  the  most  approved  manner, 
intently  straining  our  eyes  in  every  direction,  as  vigilant 
sentinels,  but  our  patience  was  unrewarded.  Panther  moun- 
tain rose  to  the  west  of  "us  —  so  named  from  its  being  a  favorite 
retreat  of  that  animal.  Our  attention  was  arrested  by  a 
peculiar  cry,  as  from  some  object  moving  along  the  side  of 
the  mountain.  •  We.  were  ready  to  vote  it  was  a  panther,  but 
had  no  desire  to  make  a  closer  investigation.  True,  there  was 
a  liberal  bounty  offered  to  any  one  who  would  bag  one  of 
these  troublesome  creatures,  chip  off  its  ears,  and  take  it  to 
the  proper  place  for  paying  the  bounty.  But  we  had  a  trust 
assigned  us  —  to  watch  for  deer  —  and  we  could  not  in  honor 
indulge  in  the  luxury  of  hunting  bear  or  panther. 

The  panther,  as  well  as  the  bear  and  wolf,  are  occasionally 
killed  in  the  mountains  bordering  this  lake.  Chauncey  has 
killed  two  panthers  in  his  hunting  experience  in  these  woods. 
During  the  winter,  wolves  are  frequently  seen,  and  when 
driven  by  hunger,  sometimes  loiter  on  the  borders  of  the  lake, 
waiting  to  pick  up  the  dead  fish-bait  left  by  the  fishermen. 
While  the  snow  lies  deep  the  wolves  are  very  destructive  to 
the  deer,  the  latter  being  unable  to  move  fast  enough  through 
the  snow  to  escape  from  their  more  agile  foe.  Bears  also 


32  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

abound,  and  many  are  trapped  in  the  winter  months,  their 
robes  bringing  a  valuable  compensation.  A  large  one  was 
seen  on  the  road  by  which  we  entered,  as  we  were  informed 
by  a  party  who  followed  us.  The  red  raspberry  bushes  grow 
large  and  have  a  prolific  yield  wherever  a  clearing  has  been 
made,  and  of  this  fruit  the  bear  is  very  fond.  The  idea  of 
danger  from  these  animals  is  scouted  by  guides  and  other  resi- 
dents, who  pass  through  the  wildest  part  of  the  woods,  day 
and  night,  without  fear  of  interruption  by  them,  and  do  not 
carry  arms  with  any  idea  of  needed  protection  from  danger. 
They  say  that  when  seen,  these  wild  habitants  of  the  woods 
seem  anxious  only  to  escape,  and  no  instance  is  known  of  their 
attacking  a  person. 

Our  diligence  as  watchmen  abated,  as  no  sound  of  hound 
or  game  broke  the  monotony.  Hyatt  made  the  acquaintance 
of  a  stalwart  bullfrog,  which  reciprocated  his  intention  by 
working  shoreward.  He  characterized  it  as  a  Daniel  Webster 
of  the  waters.  Its  broad  forehead,  expansive  chest,  and  dig- 
nity of  expression  and  deportment  were  expatiated  upon,  un- 
til the  thought  struck  him  that  Daniel  Webster's  hind  legs 
could  be  turned  to  account  as  an  addition  to  our  larder.  No 
sooner  said  than  done  —  the  great  expounder  of  double-bass 
swung  in  air  pendulant  from  a  fish-pole,  and  others  of  his  fel- 
lows whose  hinder  propellers  had  wasted  their  sweetness  to  no 
particular  benefit  of  mankind,  were  soon  added  to  the  booty, 
making  a  collection  which  would  have  set  a. Frenchman 
dancing. 

Our  companions  had  all  left  their  watching  places  and  re- 
turned gameless  to  the  camp.  We  heard  their  recall  by  the 
report  of  a  gun;  we  struck  for  the  camp,  and  had  reached 
within  half  a  mile  of  it,  when  Hyatt  sung  out  there  was  a 
deer  in  the  lake.  We  turned  and  saw  it  cleaving  the  waters 
and  pressing  for  the  shore.  Though  much  fatigued  from  the 
long  row  we  had  just  taken  around  the  margin  of  the  lake, 
we  pushed  in  the  chase  and  progressed  fast  enough  to  turn 
it  back.  As  we  drew  near  the  expected  prize  it  wheeled  and 
again  plunged  shoreward,  and  outspeeded  us  in  the  manoeuvre 


FOKEST   AND    LAKE.  38 

When  in  range  again  Hyatt  discharged  both  barrels  of  the 
gun  with  excited  aim,  without  other  visible  effect  than  to 
stimulate  the  deer  to  greater  speed.  We  had  started  with 
but  two  loaded  shells,  and  our  ammunition  being  exhausted 
we  were  left  in  the  condition  of  the  "  foolish  virgins,"  lamps 
out  and  oil  left  in  camp,  so  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to 
row  for  it.  The  report  of  the  gun  had  signaled  Chauucey 
and  George,  who  put  out  from  the  camp  to  assist  in  the  cap- 
ture. Our  duty  was  to  keep  the  deer  in  the  lake  until  rein- 
forcement arrived,  and  we  made  a  good  beginning,  holding  it 
in  the  lake.  But  we  failed  in  our  tactics  by  getting  abreast 
of  the  game  instead  of  guarding  the  rear.  The  deer  was 
quick  to  see  the  opportunity,  and  with  a  sudden  wheel  it 
struck  with  renewed  energy  for  the  shore,  about  three  rods 
distant,  our  boat  only  reaching  abreast  again  too  late.  As  it 
rose  to  the  bank  the  other  boat  had  reached  within  shot,  and 
a  trigger  was  pulled,  which,  had  the  cap  responded,  would 
doubtless  have  changed  the  result;  but  it  didn't  —  the  only 
report  being  a  concussive  report  from  Chauncey,  and  as  the 
flying  deer,  who  had  nobly  earned  his  life  and  liberty,  like  his 
prototype  of  Scott's  creation  in  the  "  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  as  — 

"Bounding  forward  free  and  far, 
Sought  the  wild  heaths  of  Uam  Var." 

the  ludicrousness  of  the  scramble  became  intensely  apparent. 
A  more  "  bio  wed  "  couple  than  that  which  panted  in  our  boat 
could  hardly  be  imagined.  We  retired  leisurely  and  grace- 
fully from  the  contest,  musing  on  the  uncertainties  which 
often  dash  the  most  earnest  efforts  and  expectations,  and  were 
willing  the  subject  should  be  dropped. 

On  the  first  lowery  day  an  excursion  to  the  lower  lakes  be- 
tween Blue  Mountain  and  Raquette,  was  decided  upon.  Our 
party,  in  two  boats,  set  out  with  the  intention  of  spending 
the  day  at  Loon  brook,  a  famous  tronting  stream.  The  outlet 
of  Blue  Mountain  lake  is  a  narrow  chasm,  thickly  studded 
with  surface  rocks.  A  half  a  mile  of  this  channel,  under 
overhanging  branches  and  between  projecting  boulders, 


34  FOKEST   AND   LAKE. 

brought  us  into  Eagles'  Nest,  a  lake  of  picturesque  setting,  so 
named  by  E.  C.  Judson,  better  known  by  his  nom  deplume  of 
"  Ned  Buntline." 

On  the  southern  baukjof  Eagles'  Nest,  on  a  clearing  of  about 
forty  acres,  Ned  erected  a  neat  tenement,  with  the  covering 
novelty  for  this  region  of  shingles  and  clap-boards.  Here  for 
years  he  buried  himself  from  the  outer  world,  and  wrote  his 
sensational  stories  for  newspapers  and  magazines.  A  sh'>rt 
distance  from  the  house  there  is  an  oblong  verdant  plot, 
bordered  with  evergreens,  where  lie  the  remains  of  his  youth- 
ful wife,  who  shared  with  him  the  loneliness  and  privations 
of  his  wilderness  home.  The  sacred  associations  which  clus- 
ter around  every  grave  appealed  with  peculiar  force  from 
this  secluded  mound,  as  yet  rarely  visited  by  human  foot.  No 
memorial  stone  or  inscription  is  here,  and  the  sepulchral  rites 
must  of  necessity  have  been  in  accordance  with  the  lonely 
scene.  Yet  the  towering  trees  are  ever  sighing  through 
their  foliage,  and  from  the  swelling  lake  which  washes 
its  sloping  bank,  comes  an  almost  ceaseless  sympathizing 
utterance  in  fitting  requiem  of  one  whose  life  was  thus  iso- 
lated, and  who  sleeps  so  far  from  her  kindred. 

Ned's  cabin  is  now  occupied  by  a  laborer,  Mr.  Harrington, 
in  the  employ  of  the  company  who  owns  this  township,  and 
we  were  indebted  to  him  and  his  wife  for  the  baking  process 
by  which  our  camp  was  supplied  with  good  bread. 

Passing  down  the  lake  we  espied  among  the  tops  of  a  dry 
tree  an  eagle's  nest,  which  indorsed  the  appropriateness  of  the 
name  Ned  had  given  to  the  lake.  We  soon  reached  Loon 
brook,  which  enters  from  the  north  about  midway  of  the  lake. 
The  indications  of  a  wet  day  had  now  become  apparent.  The 
rain,  the  first  we  had  experienced  since  entering  the  woods, 
now  fell  in  occasional  dashes,  suited  to  the  business  on  which 
we  were  soon  actively  engaged.  John,  "  the  beloved,"  soon 
demonstrated  that  he  was  a  fisherman  in  another  than  his 
usual  field,  and  his  successes  were  only  interrupted  by  ex- 
clamations of  satisfaction  as  the  finny  beauties  rolled  over  in 
the  boat  from  his  line.  The  trout  rose  slow  and  sluggish  to 


FORKST  AND  LAKE.  85 

tlie  fly,  but  the  bait  dropped  down  into  their  cold  deep  nooks, 
got  the  better  of  their  coyness,  and  our  success  was  ample, 
several  of  the  trout  running  into  their  second  poundage. 

The  near  proximity  of  the  sun  to  the  mountain  tops  warned 
us  that  our  lines  must  be  wound  up,  and  our  boat  was  turned 
again  down  the  lake.  A  few  moments'  rowing  brought  us  to 
the  connecting  passage  with  another  lake.  Lake  Utawana, 
as  Buntline  christened  one  of  the  prettiest  links  of  this  chain 
upon  which  we  now  entered,  has  many  points  of  attraction. 
But  the  gathering  shades  of  night  and  the  increasing  rainfall 
were  not  favorable  to  rhapsody,  and  however  indifferent  to  a 
soak  the  angler  may  be,  while  he  has  a  busy  rod  as  a  non- 
conductor in  his  hand,  he  is  inclined  to  meditate  in  a  different 
mood  when  his  thoughts  are  left  alone  with  the  emptying 
clouds.  At  the  foot  of  the  lake  which  had  given  us  a  two 
miles'  row,  we  struck  the  lauding  leading  to  one  of  Chauucey's 
bark  shanties,  on  the  bank  of  the  outlet  of  Marion  river,  which 
is  the  main  inlet  of  Raquette  lake,  about  eight  miles  distant. 
Our  shanty,  though  leaking  and  cramped  in  size,  afforded  a 
welcome  retreat ;  and  here,  huddled  in  camp  companionship, 
with  a  fire  of  logs  blazing  at  our  feet,  we  rehearsed  the  inci- 
dents of  the  day,  smoked  the  calumet  of  peace,  and  dried  our 
saturated  garments.  The  situation,  could  it  have  been  seen 
at  that  juncture,  might  have  excited  unnecessary  sympathy 
in  certain  quarters.  Exercise,  appetite,  and  pure  air  fortify 
the  system  against  apparently  adverse  elements,  and  make  of 
no  material  account  what,  under  different  circumstances,  would 
be  regarded  as  grave  disturbances.  There  is  many  an  un- 
strung invalid,  whose  quickest  antidote,  if  not  only  adequate 
remedy,  can  be  found  in  just  such  discipline  and  practice  un- 
der Nature's  healing  code. 

As  our  venison  was  exhausted,  and  there  was  no  ingenious 
Rebekah,  as  of  old,  to  "  prepare  savory  meat  from  the  flock," 
we  resolved  that  the  next  best  thing  was  to  propose  that 
Chauncey  and  George  should  take  a  night-hunt  on  Marion 
river  for  deer.  As  the  crop  of  mosquitoes  on  the  river  was 
unusually  fertile  this  season,  it  was  no  pleasant  task  to  sit 


36  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

like  a  statue  in  a  boat,  hour  after  hour,  while  the  silent  pad- 
dler  sent  its  bow  into  every  nook  and  branching  sweep  of  its 
waters  where  the  deer  would  be  likely  to  feed.  But  there 
was  no  flinching.  Our  purveyors  left  us  to  the  quiet  of  the 
camp-fire,  while  the  still  unbroken  clouds,  though  temporarily 
withholding  their  contents,  gloomed  darkly  over  us.  It  was 
in  the  gray  of  the  morning  when  our  hunters  returned  with  a 
fine  buck,  another  deer  having  been  captured  and  left  behind, 
as  overtaxing  the  capacity  of  the  boat,  but  which  was  soon 
added  to  our  stores. 

Marion  river  is  a  noted  resort  of  the  hunter  and  angler. 
Like  Rock  river  it  is  serpentine  in  its  course,  and  in  its  deep 
holes  there  is  ample  sport  with  the  rod.  As  we  have  already 
stated,  this  river,  formed  of  the  outflow  of  the  three-mentioned 
lakes,  runs  some  eight  miles  into  the  Raquette,  and  boating 
is  good  the  entire  distance.  Our  first  intention  was  to  pass 
through  the  Raquette  into  the  Fulton  chain  beyond.  But 
the  indications  of  continuous  wet  weather,  and  the  limit  of 
our  time  nearly  reached,  we  reluctantly  abandoned  the  pro- 
ject. Two  days  in  our  narrow  shanty,  with  constant  scudding 
clouds  that  frequently  play  their  liquid  anthem  on  the  tree- 
tops,  made  us  desire  our  first  quarters  at  Blue  Mountain,  and 
before  night  we  packed  up  and  were  on  the  back  stretch. 
The  rain  finished  its  mission  for  the  time  in  a  grand  thunder- 
storm, than  which,  with  such  surroundings,  nothing  could  be 
more  impressive.  The  loud  peals  were  caught  up  and  pro- 
longed by  the  echoes,  which  are  here  repeated  with  surprising 
distinctness.  Just  before  the  storm,  Chauncey  and  George 
started  for  Eagles'  Nest  for  a  supply  of  bread,  and  had  not 
progressed  far  before  it  burst  upon  them.  They  could  only 
mark  their  position  by  the  frequently  recurring  lightning 
flashes,  and  one  tremendous  peal  was  so  near  that  it  shook  the 
oars  out  of  their  hands.  They  felt  their  way  through  the  nar- 
row passages,  and  before  they  reached  camp  were  under  a 
clear  sky. 

The  last  evening  of  our  camp  sojourn  had  arrived.  Strong 
as  were  the  inducements  beckoning  us  out  of  the  woods,  there 


FOREST  AXD  LAKE.  H7 

was  a  feeling  akin  to  regret  that  the  sun  was  setting  upon  the 
last  day  of  our  sport  in  the  Adirondacks.  We  pushed  our  boat 
from  the  shore,  three  of  us  as  occupants  and  George  in  another, 
leaving  them  to  their  own  drifting  motion  by  wind  and  wave 
when  we  had  struck  deep  water,  and  gazed  upon  the  glories 
of  an  evening  sky,  the  beauties  of  whose  cloud  tints  no  pen  or 
pencil  can  portray.  We  watched  its  changes  through  all  shad- 
ings,  crimson,  rose,  violet,  and  gold,  upon  a  deep  blue  ground. 
The  mountains  rolled  backward  and  upward  from  the  lake, 
peak  over  peak,  until  upon  the  farthest  in  view  the  sun  was 
disappearing.  Meanwhile  Hyatt  and  John  discoursed  of  sunset 
scenes  in  their  traveling  observations  in  the  old  world,  agree- 
ing that  this,  at  least,  was  an  exception  to  the  poet's  contrast. 

"Slow  sinks,  more  lovely  ere  his  race  be  run. 
Along  Morea's  hills  the  setting  sun  — 
Not,  as  in  Northern  climes,  obscurely  bright. 
But  one  unclouded  blaze  of  living  light." 

And  what  were  George's  meditations  as  he  floated,  in  reclin- 
ing posture,  the  smoke-wreaths  of  his  pipe,  like  fancy's  airy 
creations,  seen  but  a  moment  and  then  vanishing.  We  thought 
we  could  read  them  wandering  back  to  earlier  wood  life,  when 
Chain  lakes  heard  his  rifle  first,  among  those  who  sought  the 
seclusion  of  these  romantic  hunting  grounds,  and  now  weaving 
anew  the  web  of  incident,  woven  of  many  colored  experiences. 
Perchance  musing  over  the  unsparing  work  of  the  woodman's 
axe,  thinning  forests  and  damming  streams,  by  which  the  deer 
and  trout  had  been  driven  from  their  long  accustomed  haunts. 
For  there  are  changes,  even  here,  where  an  unaccustomed 
observer  would  suppose  change  could  hardly  ever  come  ;  and 
year  after  year  plodders  for  money  are  making  noticeable  in- 
roads upon  the  old  forests,  which  must  send  the  seeker  farther 
and  farther  back  in  pursuit  of  game. 

But  the  sun  painting  has  faded  from  the  sky,  and  visions 
of  the  past,  evoked  under  such  influences  to  move  with  their 
charm  before  us,  must  also  yield  to  the  sobering  realities  ever 
in  their  train.  In  the  early  light  of  morning  we  were  on  the 
return  carry,  and  bade  adieu  to  Old  Blue  mountain. 
4 


88  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

LOWER  SARANAC  AND  RAQUETTE  LAKES. 

No.  I. 

July  30,  1869. 

I  write  you  from  the  head  of  Long  lake,  where  Palmer, 
well  known  to  all  visitors  of  the  northern  wilderness,  keeps 
open  house  and  dispenses  generous  hospitality. 

My  visit  to  this  region  finds  me  iu  company  with  an  ex- 
perienced associate  in  cauip  life,  for  the  first  time  on  the 
northern  route  of  entrance.  It  has  the  advantage  of  novelty 
of  scenery,  and  a  long  stretch  of  boating  by  lake  and  river, 
more  attractive  in  many  respects  than  the  continuous  jolting 
of  stage  travel.  But  it  has  far  less  seclusions  of  pursuit  than 
is  found  on  the  North  river  route.  Those  who  entertain 
strangers  say  there  has  never  been  such  a  rush  of  visitors. 
Blood  at  the  Saranac,  Bartlett  at  Round  lake,  Johnson  at  the 
Rapids  of  Raquette  river,  and  Palmer,  our  present  host,  have 
all  been  at  their  wits'  end  to  know  where  to  dispose  of  those 
who  have  sought  their  quarters,  and  many  have  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  get  a  meal  or  a  night's  shelter.  The  exaggerated  de- 
scriptions which  have  been  published  of  sport  iu  the  Adiron- 
dacks  have  drawn  hundreds  to  this  section,  who  have  found 
it  was  not  all  their  fancy  painted  it.  If  they  ever  come  again 
it  will  be  under  sobered  and  wiser  calculations  for  such  a  trip. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  third  day  from  home  we  reached 
Bartlett's,  a  very  pleasant  stopping  place  between  Round  and 
Upper  Saranac  lake.  About  midnight,  while  the  rain  was 
pouring  profusely,  a  party  called  for  accommodations  who  had 
just  come  in  from  below.  They  reported  the  loss  of  one  of 
their  guides,  by  the  name  of  Ed.  Curtis.  It  appeared  he  was  in- 
toxicated, and,  while  endeavoring  to  manage  his  bark  canoe, 
lurched  overboard.  His  companions  heard  his  cry  and  went 
back,  but  found  only  his  empty  canoe  and  floating  hat .  This 
is  the  second  guide  who  has  found  a  whisky  grave  in  the 
lakes  in  this  section  within  a  short  time. 

On  leaving  Bartlett's  we  took  the  first  lesson  in  shouldering 
knapsacks.  The  carry  to  Lower  Saranac,  however,  was  but 


FOKEST    AND    LAKE.  39 

a  short  half  mile,  and  didn't  try  muscle  very  severely.  At 
Johnson's  carry,  at  the  Rapids  of  the  Raquette,  there  was  a 
mile  and  a  half  to  surmount,  much  of  the  way  a  steep  upgrade. 
If  my  knapsack,  which  a  close  calculation  would  have  put  at 
about  fifty  pounds,  didn't  reach  one  hundred  and  fifty  before 
I  got  through  that  slippery  up  track,  then  I  was  under  a  great 
delusion. 

The  hunters  are  complaining  more  earnestly  than  ever,  of 
the  scarcity  of  deer.  I  learn  that  Murray,  the  "  bookmaker" 
of  the  Adirondacks,  has  killed  only  one  so  far,  although,  he 
has  been  here  for  some  time  with  a  large  company. 

By  the  way,  they  tell  a  good  story  of  the  great  fisherman  and 
hunter  —  on  paper  —  to  some  incredulous  reader  of  his  great 
exploit,  which  is  illustrated  by  the  tip  of  his  pole  crossing  its 
butt  with  two  trout  pendulous.  In  order  to  show  the  sceptics 
how  it  could  be  done,  Murray  stepped  into  a  boat,  pole  in  one 
hand,  placed  his  foot  on  one  side  of  the  bow,  leaning  upon 
which  too  heavily  caused  the  stern  to  sheer  suddenly  in  the 
opposite  direction,  and  over  went  the  Adirondack  historian, 
kersplash  into  the  water.  His  listeners  saw  the  point  of  his 
illustration. 

To-day  we  start  for  Raquette  lake,  and  whither  from  thence, 
circumstances  must  determine. 

No.  II. 

RAQUETTE  LAKE,  Augmt  5. 

In  my  last  brief  note  I  informed  you  of  our  arrival  at 
Palmer's,  at  Long  lake.  At  noon  on  the  day  following,  having 
procured  a  boat  of  Palmer,  and  necessary  camp  supplies,  such 
as  pork,  potatoes,  flour,  butter,  etc.,  we  started  for  this  point. 
We  found  at  Long  lake  an  old  guide  acquaintance,  whom  we 
induced  to  accompany  us  part  of  the  way. 

Passing  from  the  head  of  Long  lake  we  struck  Raquette 
river  again,  and  followed  it  to  the  Rapids,  known  as  Butter- 
milk Falls,  where  Murray  locates  his  adventure  of  the  Indian 
maid  Phantom,  and  the  imaginary  descent  of  his  boat,  with 
himself  and  guide  over  the  abyss.  These  Falls  are  worth 


40  FOIIEST  AND  LAKE. 

seeing.  The  river  for  several  rods  dashes  over  the  thickly 
studded  rocks,  which  churn  the  swift  current  into  a  foaming 
avalanche  down,  down  into  a  wide  and  tranquil  bed.  No  boat 
could  ride  these  waters  in  safety. 

At  the  foot  of  the  Falls  we  enter  upon  the  carry  of  a  mile 
and  a  half  which  leads  to  Forked  lake.  Here  our  guide  left 
us,  as  we  had  struck  familiar  waters.  This  lake  is  about  four 
miles  long.  At  its  head  we  reached  the  third  and  last  carry, 
between  Long  lake  and  Raquette,  about  half  a  mile  long, 
and  here  George  essayed  his  first  attempt  in  boat  carrying.  Our 
craft  weighed  plump  one  hundred  and  ten  pounds,  and  was  no 
trifling  lift.  After  some  little  delay,  in  which  the  question  of 
success  hung  in  doubt,  it  rose  upon  the  shoulders  of  struggling 
humanity  a  monument  of  pluck  and  perseverance,  and  with  con- 
quering steps  it  was  soon  launched  upon  the  far  famed  lake, 
which  has  since  been  our  stopping  place.  Turning  south,  we 
passed  the  Raquette  House,  on  the  left,  kept  by  Carey,  a  well- 
known  resort  to  the  North  Woods  hunters.  Soon  after  we 
passed  an  island  known  as  Indian  Point,  for  many  years  the 
home  of  Mrs.  Beach,  one  of  the  two  pioneers  of  this  section.  It 
is  now  temporarily  occupied  by  Tait,  a  New  York  artist  of  high 
repute  as  a  game  painter,  and  one  of  the  most  skillful  sportsmen 
in  these  waters.  Just  above,  on  the  right,  is  the  Wood  place, 
built  and  for  many  years  kept  by  "  old  Wood,"  whose  history 
runs  back  to  the  first  public  attention  directed  to  this  grand 
sheet  of  inland  water.  Here  we  found  George's  old  friend, 
Sid.  Hayes,  who  has  been  its  occupant  for  several  years.  He 
received  us  with  warm  hospitality  and  made  us  feel  at  home. 
As  I  had  rowed  some  ten  miles  during  the  afternoon,  for  the 
first  time  within  the  year  handling  an  oar,  the  offer  was  pecu- 
liarly appreciated.  No  fatigue,  however,  could  make  one 
iffsensible  to  the  rare  beauty  of  scenery  which  spreads  out  on 
all  sides  from  the  elevated  positions.  Lakes,  islands  and 
mountains  meet  the  eye  on  every  side,  and,  from  their  varying 
points  of  beauty,  never  tire  the  vision. 

Sid.  Hayes,  the  present  occupant  of  the  Wood  place,   was 
formerly  a  bank-note  artist  in  New  York,  in  which  business 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  41 

lie  was  a  skillful  workman.  The  change  in  the  character  of 
our  currency,  which  threw  out  of  existence  our  State  banks, 
broke  up  to  a  great  extent  the  occupation  of  those  engaged  in 
this  business,  and  Hayes  was  attracted  to  this  locality,  as  a 
lover  of  its  beautiful  scenery,  and  one  having  a  keen  relish 
for  its  exciting  sports.  He  is  a  frank,  true-hearted  gentleman 
of  cultivated  tastes,  and  universally  esteemed  among  his 
acquaintances. 

While  I  am  writing,  Hayes  has  just  returned  with  some 
fifteen  or  twenty  pounds  of  trout,  caught  in  the  lake,  some 
of  them  over  a  pound  in  weight.  It  is  an  indication  of  the 
peculiarity  of  the  season,  that,  at  this  lateness  of  the  summer 
period,  brook  trout  should  be  mostly  found  in  the  deep  waters 
of  the  lake,  instead  of  the  spring-holes  of  the  streams.  They 
are  very  scarce  at  the  latter  places.  The  weather  continues 
quite  cold,  with  prevailing  north  winds  and  frequent  rain. 

The  camp  of  Mr.  Murray  and  his  party  is  on  an  island, 
nearly  opposite  Hayes'  residence.  An  evening  or  two  since 
w«  were  on  a  rise  of  ground  near  the  head  of  the  east  inlet, 
"smudging"  off  the  flies  and  mosquitos,  which  are  very 
abundant  this  season,  and  waiting  for  the  shades  of  evening 
to  set  in  for  a  "float  "  down  the  river.  A  party  of  boats  came 
down  with  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  one  boat  stopping  at  our 
landing,  a  man  in  hunter's  garb  came  up  to  our  fire  bringing 
a  teapot,  and  asked  the  privilege  of  sharing  it  with  us.  In 
the  conversation  which  followed,  we  learned  that  our  visitor, 
Mr.  Murray,  was  tarrying  on  the  same  business  as  ourselves. 
Having  partaken  of  liis  frugal  meal,  and  enlivened  the  same 
with  pleasant  stories  of  wood  life,  it  was  arranged  that  he 
should  have  the  first  chance  down.  Not  long  after,  loud 
snorting,  or,  as  it  is  called,  "  whistling,"  was  heard,  showing 
that  one  deer  had  taken  the  alarm  in  time  to  save  himself 
from  a  pretty  sure  shot.  We  followed  soon  after  and  were 
served  with  the  same  music  from  two  other  deer.  They  were 
feeding  on  the  marsh  adjoining  the  stream,  which  furnishes 
feed  so  fresh  that  there  was  no  sufficient  attraction  in  the 
grass  and  lily  buds  in  the  water's  edge. 


42  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

The  hunters  complain  of  the  scarcity  of  deer  this  summer. 
The  extreme  coldness  of  the  season  may  account  for  this, 
keeping  them  back  in  the  shelter  of  the  woods. 

In  a  day  or  two  we  propose  a  brief  visit  to  our  old  camping 
ground  at  Blue  Mountain. 

t,  HI. 

OUTWARD  BOUND,  :A?igust  19. 

Post-carriers  out  of  the  woods  are  few  and  far  between. 
Hence,  if  the  convenience  for  writing  should  offer,  the  pros- 
pect is  that  any  temporary  visitor  to  these  parts  will  be  likely 
to  reach  home  as  quick  as  his  letters. 

Since  my  last  we  have  serpentined  through  lakes,  and  up 
and  down  the  cold  water  brooks  leading  into  them,  and 
caught  fish-bites  and  mosquito-bites  in  about  equal  proportion. 

The  fly-rod  of  the  latter  is  a  wonderful  contrivance,  and  the 
victim  is  very  apt  to  ' '  rise  "  when  it  is  thrown .  You  touch  a 
bush  with  your  passing  boat,  and  out  go  a  swarm  of  these 
river  songsters,  following  you  as  if  their  first  and  only  chance 
for  blood  depended  upon  putting  you  through.  There  is  no 
use  in  trying  to  outstrip  them.  I  have  watched  with  inter- 
ested curiosity  their  speed,  and  am  satisfied  that  in  a  three 
mile  quick  pull  they  will  come  out  the  freshest  at  the  end, 
"  nip  and  tuck  "  with  you. 

Contractors  for  game  at  the  lakes  have  raised  their  prices,  and 
are  now  paying  sixty  cents  a  pound  for  brook  trout,  about  forty 
cents  for  lake  trout,  and  twenty  cents  for  venison.  Of  course, 
the  contractors  who  sell  at  Lake  George,  Saratoga,  and  other 
summer  resorts  realize  a  still  higher  return.  These  prices 
give  to  those  who  make  angling  and  hunting  a  business  very 
lucrative  wages,  but  the  curse  of  whisky,  and  the  poorest  kind 
at  that,  consumes  the  whole,  with  the  greater  part  of  this 
class. 

Parties  are  coming  and  going  at  the  Raquette  this  season 
more  numerously  than  ever.  Few  of  them  are  prepared  to 
accept  the  annoyances  and  hardships  of  such  an  excursion, 
for  the  real  solid  good  which  can  be  derived  from  it.  But  it 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  43 

is  equally  true  that  in  the  same  old  ruts  cf  daily  occupation, 
both  mind  and  body  become  shortened  in  their  powers,  and  so 
contracted  within  narrow  orbits  as  to  lose  sense  of  enjoyment 
intended  for  daily  use.  The  excitements  here  with  the  rod  and 
gun,  and  the  discomforts  of  the  insect  world,  levying  tribute 
or  collecting  revenue,  are  but  incidentals  to  the  great  end  of 
sharpening  the  eye  from  glorious  far-off  looks,  or  quickening 
the  ear  in  the  lighted  boat  on  the  midnight  paddle,  listening 
for  the  footfall  of  the  red  deer.  If  you  miss  your  deer  or 
trout  you  are  still  the  winner.  Your  needed  training  is  going 
on.  Like  the  smoker's  meerschaum,  you  not  only  "  color  " 
beautifully,  but  feel  that  it  is  the  sign  and  seal  of  recuperat- 
ing forces  within,  while  your  quickened  lungs  beat  their  silent 
tune  with  a  new  sense  of  pleasant  existence.  You  can  get 
spunky  when  any  thing  goes  unsatisfactory,  just  as  quickly 
here  as  anywhere  else,  but  then  you  have  the  advantage  that 
you  can  get  over  it  quicker,  for  the  ridiculousness  of  getting 
out  of  patience  amid  such  surroundings  is  sublimely  apparent. 
And  then  for  a  lodge  in  the  wilderness  improvised  from  hasty 
materials,  and,  before  rolling  in  your  blankets  for  the  night, 
to  watch,  with  an  appealing  appetite  as  I  have,  George 
broiling  a  trout  or  slice  of  pork  on  a  crotched  twig,  and  pull- 
ing his  moustaches,  the  meanwhile,  as  if  there  were  some 
invisible  sympathy  between  them  and  the  simmering  coffee 
over  the  coals;  and  we  have  given  glimpses  of  life  in  the 
woods  which  the  lover  of  Nature  in  her  freedom  and  wildness 
will  hold  as  a  lingering  charm. 

Among  the  visitors  to  the  Raquette  we  have  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  meeting  Mr.  J.  H.  Mathews,  who  is  recreating  here  for 
a  few  days,  accompanied  by  a  friend  from  New  York.  They 
enter  with  zest  into  the  occupations  of  wood  life,  and  will 
doubtless  reap  its  benefits. 

We  also  had  a  call  from  Mitchell  Sabattis,  the  clever  and 
experienced  guide,  who  accompanied  Messrs.  Leasing  and 
Buckingham  on  their  explorations  of  the  sources  of  the  Hud- 
son and  to  the  top  of  Mount  Marcy,  a  few  years  ago.  He 
inquired  about  them  with  much  apparent  interest. 


44  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

Chilly,  cloudy  weather  has  been  the  rule  rather  than  the 
exception,  so  far  during  this  season.  On  the  night  of  August 
8th  a  frost  that  would  have  done  credit  to  December  wilted 
and  browned  corn  to  the  roots  in  some  places.  When  we 
reached  Dick  Jackson's  clearing  we  found  him  busily  engaged 
in  haying.  He  calculates  on  one  hundred  tons  this  season,  a 
pretty  good  cut  for  a  mountain  farmer,  fourteen  miles  from 
any  settlement.  Oats  are  looking  very  fine  in  this  region, 
with  their  heavy  heads  and  large  stalks.  But  they  hold  their 
greenness  still,  and  frosts  are  feared.  This  will  be  remem- 
bered as  a  cold  season  among  the  Adirondacks. 

Bears  are  still  seen  occasionally  on  the  borders  near  the 
clearings.  The  men  whom  we  passed  informed  us  on  our  re- 
turn, that  they  started  one  out  of  the  path  we  had  just  left. 
Bruin  was  wallowing,  hog  like,  in  a  puddle,  but  was  in  such  a 
hurry  to  leave  that  he  did  not  stop  to  shake  himself.  Such  in- 
cidents create  no  sensation  among  the  natives,  as  the  timidity 
and  shyness  of  bruin  are  a  long  established  fact  among  them. 

The  completion  of  the  Adirondack  railroad  to  Thurman, 
thirty-eight  miles  from  Saratoga,  and  within  three  miles  of 
Warrensburg,  makes  this  by  all  odds  the  choice  of  routes  into 
the  North  Woods.  It  is  already  graded  some  distance  beyond 
Warrensburg,  and  will  follow  the  west  bank  of  the  Hudson, 
most  of  the  way  along  the  line  of  the  old  abandoned  grade 
commenced  several  years  since. 

There  is  some  talk  of  its  being  finished  to  Johnsburg,  ten 
miles  from  Warrensburg,  but  this  will  not  be  done  probably 
until  next  season.  From  thence  the  rich  lumber  and  iron  ore 
of  the  forest,  not  many  miles  distant,  will  be  reached,  and  its 
wheels  bear  out  to  the  busy  world  vast  treasures  now  locked 
in  fastnesses  where  the  foot  of  man  is  rarely  if  ever  heard. 
The  day  that  witnesses  such  an  innovation  will  date  the  van- 
ishing of  much  which  gives  a  peculiar  attraction  to  these  soli- 
tudes; but  it  will  open  to  common  and  easy  travel,  with 
well-provided  accommodations,  a  magnificence  of  scenery  and 
purity  of  atmosphere,  far  exceeding  that  of  the  most  favored 
resorts  of  the  present  day. 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  45 

FROM  LOWVILLE  TO  PLATTSBURGH. 

August  5,  1871. 

After  about  a  week's  absence  from  my  post,  it  occurs  to  me 
that  I  may  make  up  a  brief  memoranda  of  its  experiences,  etc., 
and  improve  an  opportunity,  somewhat  unusual  to  camp  life 
here,  of  sending  a  message  out.  Leaning  against  a  stump, 
with  my  knees  for  a  writing  desk,  is  the  choice  of  position  af- 
forded, but  the  inconvenience  of  stump  writing  may  save  you 
from  the  infliction  of  a  long  letter. 

Mr.  Slee  and  myself  reached  Lowville  Tuesday  noon,  the 
day  following  our  departure  from  P.,  where  we  met  by  ap- 
pointment a  team  sent  for  us  by  Mr.  Charles  Fenton,  proprietor 
of  well-known  quarters  to  all  parties  visiting  the  northern 
wilderness  of  this  State  by  this  route.  Fenton  resides  at 
Township  No.  4,  about  eighteen  miles  from  Lowville,  over  as 
rough  a  road  for  the  most  of  the  way  as  any  that  has  come 
within  my  experience  of  wood  travel. 

At  Fenton's  we  met  the  guide  he  had  engaged  for  us  — 
Danforth  Knowlton.  Danforth  is  a  Massachusetts-Yankee,  a 
strong-limbed,  clever,  ingenious  specimen  of  his  class.  We 
found  him  a  trusty,  willing,  and  competent  guide,  and  can 
commend  him  to  all  who  need  the  services  of  such  a  companion 
in  the  North  Woods.  Seven  years  ago  his  desire  to  follow  a 
hunter's  life  led  him  to  this  section,  where  he  has  since  fol- 
lowed the  occupation  of  a  guide  in  summer,  and  a  trapper  of 
fur  animals  in  the  fall  and  winter. 

Parties  from  this  point  uniformly  strike  for  Smith's  lake, 
which  is  the  largest  on  this  route  until  you  reach  Big  Tupper 
lake.  As  there  were  two  or  three  shanties  already  occupied 
on  that  lake  we  concluded  to  defer  our  visit  to  that  water  and 
turn  into  Salmon  lake,  one  of  the  "  Red  Horse  Chain,"  as  it  is 
called. 

From  Fenton's  to  Beaver  Brook,  about  eleven  miles  of  rough 
road,  our  baggage  is  carried  by  a  team.  We  reach  Wardwell's 
House.  "  Wild  Woods  Home,"  after  four  hours'  travel,  where 
a  good  dinner  is  provided,  and  is  sure  to  meet  a  good  appetite. 


46  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

Our  boats  are  here  started  on  this  brook  for  a  run  of  ten  miles 
up  stream.  It  abounds  in  deep  boles  where  the  trout  at  this 
season  find  their  feeding  grounds.  We  took  sufficient  for  our 
table  supply  without  stopping,  and  reached  the  shanty  on  its 
bank  in  time  for  an  early  supper  and  preparation  for  our  first 
night's  lodging  in  the  woods,  with  our  rubber  blankets  the 
only  separation  between  us  and  mother  earth.  Here  we  met 
a  veteran  dominie  with  two  lads,  who  had  been  camping  out 
for  ten  days,  ready  to  depart  on  the  morrow.  They  had  ex- 
hausted their  stock  of  provisions,  but,  the  dominie  said,  had 
saved  an  enormous  appetite,  and  must  have  something  to  eat 
for  breakfast,  or  starve.  Our  larder  was  ample  and  we  had 
the  satisfaction  of  saving  them  from  that  calamity. 

In  the  morning  we  turned  northward,  boating  across  Burnt 
lake,  one  of  the  smaller  collections  of  water  dignified  by  that 
appellation,  and  reached  a  carry  of  a  mile  and  a  half.  Here 
came  one  of  the  tugs  of  forest  travel.  Loads  are  apportioned 
somewhat  according  to  capacity  on  an  English  racecourse. 
Yet  after  footing  half  a  mile  or  so  it  would  be  difficult  to 
convince  one  of  the  weaker  parties,  that  he  had  not  been 
reckoned,  in  the  distribution  of  the  burden,  as  one  of  the 
stallions  of  the  first  carrying  force. 

There  is  an  end  to  all  mortal  experiences,  and  the  truth  is 
never  accepted  with  heartier  conviction  than  when  water 
destination  breaks  upon  the  sight,  to  close  this  pack-horse 
work.  We  reach  Salmon  lake,  the  second  in  the  Red  Horse 
chain,  where  we  were  to  pitch  our  tent.  Tired  as  we  were, 
and  thus  more  acceptably  inclined  to  favorable  judgment,  we 
must  confess  to  some  disappointment,  especially  in  view  of 
its  imposing  name.  It  is  a  secluded  basin  about  a  mile  in 
length,  and  from  a  third  to  half  a  mile  in  width,  with  few 
points  jutting  out  to  break  the  straightness  of  line,  and  not  an 
islet  on  its  bosom.  The  view  is  shut  in  entirely  by  gentle 
eminences,  unrelieved  by  a  single  commanding  peak.  We 
struck  it  near  the  outlet,  and  while  our  guide  went  back  for 
the  balance  of  our  supplies,  sat  and  watched  the  rising  of  a 
heavy  cloud,  of  threatening  aspect.  The  first  pattering  drops 


FOHEST   AND   LAKE.  47 

warned  us  to  seek  shelter,  and  spreading  our  rubber  blankets 
over  our  traps,  and  turning  our  boat  over,  we  crawled  beneath 
its  cover,  and  enjoyed  in  security  an  outpouring  of  rain.  Our 
guide  returned  as  the  clouds  were  breaking  up,  and  soon  we 
were  paddling  for  the  upper  end  of  the  lake,  selected  for  our 
headquarters.  With  a  tent  well  bedded  with  hemlock  boughs, 
and  a  blazing  camp-fire  before  it,  the  roughest  place  in  the 
wilderness  is  soon  transformed  into  a  scene  of  comparative 
comfort.  The  cold,  rainy  weather,  which  set  in  steadily  for 
two  or  three  da\s,  found  us  well  sheltered,  and  we  could 
listen  to  the  roaring  of  the  thunder  and  the  music  of  the 
winds  among  the  swaying  branches  of  the  overhanging  trees, 
with  an  added  sense  of  the  grandeur  of  Nature,  in  her  tem- 
pest phases. 

But  there  are  also  lessons  of  instruction  in  humbler  aspects. 
Looking  out  of  the  tent  opening  in  the  morning,  we  beheld 
our  guide,  in  shirt  and  vest  only,  sitting  on  a  log,  mending 
his  pantaloons,  defiant  of  the  keen  morning  air.  He  explained 
the  severe  simplicity  of  his  attire,  by  saying  that  he  had  for- 
gotten to  bring  an  extra  pair  with  him,  and  thus  allayed  ap- 
prehensions of  his  sanity.  It  was  a  suggestive  hint  of  the  im- 
portance of  being  doubly  provided  against  the  wear  and  tear  of 
wood  travel,  as  one  never  realizes  more  fully  under  such  circum- 
stances "  what  a  day  may  bring  forth  " —  and  require  covering. 

Salmon  lake  may  have  been  better  entitled  to  this  name  in 
bygone  days.  At  present  the  salmon  (or  lake  trout)  are  not  fre- 
quent captures.  Only  one  of  this  kind  has  as  yet  displayed 
his  proportions  in  our  boat.  But  with  speckled  trout  it 
abounds  in  good  measure,  and  we  have  taken  all  we  need  — 
some  of  fine  size.  While  engaged  in  this  sport  on  the  second 
evening,  a  deer  came  down  to  the  bank,  in  handy  distance  for 
a  rifle,  but  the  prohibitory  statute  protection  had  not  quite 
expired,  and  what  may  have  been  more  prohibitory,  our  rifle 
was  in  camp.  The  animal  parted  from  view,  with  an  admoni- 
tory whistle  to  his  kind  that  an  enemy  had  arrived. 

The  delusion  must  be  given  up  that  these  beautiful  tenants 
of  the  great  northern  wilderness,  which  once  were  seen 


.48  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

.throughout  the  day  disporting  in  the  waters,  have  now  any 
portion  of  it  left  to  themselves,  where  they  can  be  thus  visible. 
Bullet  and  buckshot  have  largely  done  the  work  of  extermi- 
nation, and  now  they  must  be  sought  with  many  disappoint- 
ments, and  are  rarely  seen.  Even  in  this  locality,  where  no 
party  has  left  encampment  evidences  preceding  us  for  many 
months,  presence  of  deer  is  only  traceable  by  their  occasional 
footprints  in  nightly  visitation  to  the  streams  running  in  and 
out. 

But  if  the  deer  are  diminishing,  the  insect  world  still  hold 
their  own,  and  are  ready  to  die  game  at  all  hours.  The  deer- 
fly,  the  mosquito,  the  midge  or  punkie,  are  fresh  and  fearless 
as  ever.  Some  one  has  said,  "Man's  love  is  of  himself  a 
thing  apart."  It  is  not  so  of  the  love  of  the  insect -biting 
world  for  him.  There  is  no  "  apart  "  ideas  of  relation  in  their 
philosophy.  "  Thine  forever,"  or  as  the  Yankee  phrased  it 
more  appropriately,  "  Yours  tu  death,"  seems  to  be  their  be- 
ing's end  and  aim.  We  have  speculated  whether  the  expan- 
sion of  the  muscles  of  the  arms,  which  occurs  during  a  sojourn 
in  the  woods,  is  not  owing  mainly  to  the  rapidity,  strength 
and  frequency  of  motion  in  brushing  away  these  disturbances. 
Of  the  three  kinds  named,  as  "sample  bricks,"  the  least  in 
size  and  biggest  in  consequence  is  the  punkie.  The  mos- 
quito announces  his  coming  with  a  grand  flourish  of  his  trum- 
pet. The  deer-fly  leaves  no  sting  of  any  account  behind. 
But  the  punkie,  if  you  see  it  at  all,  is  only  a  little  black  speck, 
which  you  marvel  is  sufficient  for  organism  of  life,  yet  he 
bites  ferociously,  crawls  up  into  your  hair  and  down  your 
neck,  and  raises  a  blotch  on  some  victims  like  a  mosquito.  It 
swarms  in  early  morning  and  at  evening,  and  is  prolific  on 
water-courses.  Passing  up  the  inlet  of  the  lake  with  the 
guide,  the  other  evening,  we  watched  him  brushing  away  these 
pests,  until  his  quiet  speech  took  the  utterance  of  "  d— — n 
the  punkies  ! "  With  both  hands  lively  engaged  in  like  occu- 
pation, we  felt  that  there  was  an  inclination  of  responsive 
weakness  on  our  part,  even  under  most  guarded  duty  of  ex- 
pression. 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  49 

The  other  three  lakes  of  this  chain  are  Witch  Hopple,  Nig- 
ger and  Crooked.  We  made  an  excursion  to  the  first  named, 
to  try  a  night  float  for  deer.  Its  name,  we  are  told,  comes 
from  an  interlacing  stout  viuelike  bush  which  grows  in  rank 
abundance  and  "  hopples  "  your  progress.  The  distance  is 
about  fifteen  minutes'  walk.  It  is  a  beautiful  little  lake,  of 
lesser  size  than  Salmon,  but  with  a  much  finer  setting  and  sur- 
roundings. We  made  our  way  to  a  winter  log  shanty  which 
our  guide  had  built  for  his  trapping  uses,  back  from  the  lake 
among  the  heavy  timber.  It  was  arranged  that  Slee  and  the 
guide  should  go  out  on  the  lake  for  a  night  hunt,  and  like  Robin- 
son Crusoe  I  was  left  for  the  time  monarch  of  all  I  surveyed. 

We  can  conceive  of  no  fuller  sense  of  solitude  than  the  iso- 
lation of  trapper  life  in  this  spot.  Some  forty-four  miles  away 
from  any  village  settlement,  and  a  great  portion  of  that  dis- 
tance away  from  any  human  habitation,  it  must  be  more  an 
infatuation  for  the  wild  and  stirring  pursuit  of  the  occupation 
than  the  chances  of  profit,  that  draws  him  hither.  Looking 
out  upon  the  hoary  old  trees,  lighted  by  the  flickering  blaze 
of  the  camp-fire,  where  the  axe  of  commerce  has  not  yet  felled 
a  tree,  and  the  forest  has  only  yielded  its  tribute  to  the  need- 
ful uses  of  the  hunter,  his  is  the  teaching  of  the  vastness  and 
antiquity  of  the  earth,  of  which  civilized  life  has  only  a 
dwarfed  and  faint  conception.  And  yet  what  changes  must 
have  followed  successively  even  here,  since  the  native  owners 
and  occupants  wooed  their  dusky  beauties  to  their  wigwams, 
and  took  their  spoils  in  easy  abundance  from  forest  and  lake. 
The  panther,  bear,  and  wolf,  the  common  prey  of  his  bow  and 
knife,  have  also  largely  disappeared,  and  the  deer  and  trout 
must  soon  be  comparatively  among  the  things  that  were,  if 
they  have  not  nearly  reached  that  state. 

One  feature,  however,  remains,  upon  which  the  changing 
influence  of  time  has  fallen  slightly.  These  beautiful  lakes, 
with  their  clear,  cold  waters  sparkling  in  sunlight,  or  waved 
by  the  storm,  still  remain  in  many  places  untouched  by  the 
hand  of  utility,  seemingly  as  perfect  in  their  charm  as  when 
the  primal  light  burst  upon  them. 


50  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

The  night  hunters  return,  and  report  no  sound  or  sight  of 
deer,  and  once  more  we  gather  to  our  blankets  and  lowly 
couch. 

Our  return  route  is  laid  out  up  the  remainder  of  Stillwater 
to  Albany  and  Smith  lakes,  through  the  Tupper  and  Saranacs 
to  Plattsburgh  to  Lake  Champlain  homeward. 

No.  II. 

My  previous  letter  left  us  in  a  state  of  preparation  for  a 
movement  farther  into  the  wilderness.  Camp  life  explains 
the  propensity  of  settlers  on  the  frontier  to  break  up  their 
quarters  on  a  sudden  impulse,  and  give  their  clearing  axe  a 
more  solitary  sound  beyond  its  wonted  field  of  labor.  The 
eye  longs  for  new  surprises,  and  imagination  pictures  more 
stirring  scenes.  This  is  no  difficult  process  where  the  home 
shelter  is  so  readily  constructed,  and  some  new  El  Dorado 
looms  up  invitingly  in  the  distance. 

A  half  an  hour's  labor  enables  us  to  take  up  our  tent,  pack 
our  supplies,  and  walk.  Returning  on  the  trail  we  had  en- 
tered, we  launched  our  boat  again  on  Beaver  river,  and  turned 
up  the  stream  for  Albany  lake,  our  destination  for  the  night. 
This  river,  from  Stillwater,  where  we  first  struck  it,  to  Albany 
lake,  has  a  run  of  about  twenty-five  miles,  much  of  the  way 
with  a  rapid  current.  Its  turnings  and  windings  can  be  under- 
stood from  the  fact  that  it  is  only  about  nine  miles  by  land, 
through  the  forest  that  lines  its  banks.  The  work  of  the  oar 
in  making  the  passage  is  greatly  increased  by  the  effort  re- 
quired to  keep  the  boat  on  a  turn  with  the  stream,  and  the 
constant  lookout  ahead  to  dodge  partially  submerged  rocks. 
Dinner  hour  overtook  us  in  willing  humor,  as  it  inevitably 
will  under  such  circumstances,  and  we  landed  at  an  inviting 
.  place  on  the  bank  of  the  river.  Getting  dinner  in  the  woods 
is  a  simple  process.  After  kindling  a  fire,  the  next  invariable 
requisites  are  a  crotch  and  pole.  These  two  articles  are 
staple  commodities  in  camp  life.  To  make  your  temporarv 
shanty  for  a  night's  lodging,  or  prepare  your  dinner,  crotches 
and  poles  do  wonders. 


FOHEST   AND   LAKE.  51 

The  guide  had  driven  a  crotched  stick  just  back  of  the  firer 
and  pushed  a  sharpened  pole  obliquely  in  the  ground,  leaving 
a  short  projection  resting  on  the  crotch  over  the  fire,  from 
which  the  coffee  pot  was  soon  to  send  out  its  steaming  odor, 
when  he  informed  one  of  the  party  that  there  was  a  famous 
spring-hole  not  far  distant  in  the  forest,  where  large  trout 
could  be  taken. 

Fisherman  took  the  bait  at  once  and  started  through  the 
dense  mass  of  alders,  iu  the  direction  pointed  out.  After 
floundering  about  a  half  an  hour  among  the  vine-twisted  un- 
derbrush, now  picking  up  his  hat,  then  releasing  his  tackle 
from  a  fettering  twig  or  vine,  he  came  out  again  in  astonish- 
ment near  the  place  he  had  entered,  to  behold  his  companions 
quietly  dispatching  dinner.  Whether  it  was  a  ruse  on  the 
part  of  the  guide  to  get  the  start  at  dinner,  or  a  pious  fraud 
to  give  the  angler  a  better  relish  for  it,  by  preliminary  exer- 
cise, is  an  unsolved  riddle;  but  of  one  thing  he  is  certain, 
that  the  locality  of  that  spring-hole,  and  the  cause  of  his  com- 
ing out  at  the  same  hole  he  entered,  are  a  mystery,  although 
he  found  about  every  thing  else,  in  his  flounder! ngs  through 
bushy  labyrinths. 

"Time  and  tide  wait  for  none,"  and  we  had  one  of  these, 
and  an  equivalent  in  the  rapid  current  for  the  other,  to  con- 
tend with.  The  sun  was  dropping  low  toward  a  mountain 
top,  as  we  resumed  our  progress,  with  a  carry  ahead,  and  Al- 
bany lake  yet  at  working  distance.  After  about  an  hour's 
row  we  struck  the  rapids,  where  for  about  a  mile  the  river 
dashes  downward  through  a  bed  of  rocks,  giving  wild  music 
to  wilder  scenery.  Here  with  knapsacks,  blankets,  hunting 
and  fishing  implements,  and  other  camp  equipage,  back 
weighted  and  hands  full,  we  took  the  narrow  trail  through 
the  woods,  leaving  the  guide  to  drag  his  boat  between  and 
over  the  rocks  which  line  the  passage.  Coming  out  ahead  at 
boating  water,  we  waited  for  him,  and  seated  on  a  rock  out  in 
the  stream  watched  the  new  section  of  the  world  to  us  through 
the  curling  smoke  of  a  cigar.  Presently  Danforth  hove  in 
sight,  tugging  and  lifting  his  swinging  craft,  which  seemed 


52  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

to  be  as  obstinate  of  propulsion  as  the  Irishman's  pig,  "  which 
frisked  about  so  he  couldn't  count  him."  Guide  evidently  had 
seen  trouble.  The  rapids  were  emphatically  denounced,  and 
the  loss  of  paint  and  other  damage  to  his  boat,  by  its  frisky 
collision  with  the  rocks,  and  the  amount  of  labor  he  had  ex- 
perienced, were  duly  descanted.  We  gently  reminded  him  of 
the  favorite  air  which,  with  genuine  Yankee  drawl,  he  was 
wont  to  enliven  every  occupation  — 

"jNever  sit  dowu  with  a  tear  or  a  frown , 
But  paddle  your  own  canoe," 

but  the  jest  was  evidently  too  practical,  and  in  moody  silence 
we  gathered  again  to  the  home  stretch  and  night  quarters, 
thinking  of  the  ideas  of  a  jolly  time  and  no  drawbacks,  which 
some  who  have  an  itch  for  camp  life  in  the  wilderness  en- 
tertain. 

Albany  lake  is  a  charming  stretch  of  water,  abounding  with 
lake  and  brook  trout,  and  a  favorite  resort  of  deer.  Its  lower 
extremity  spreads  out  into  a  beautiful  bay,  which  affords  at- 
tractive grounds  for  the  rod  and  line.  Passing  this,  its  waters 
again  contract,  leaving  close  quarters  for  a  boat  through  the 
lilies  and  rushes  which  spread  over  its  surface.  At  the  head 
of  this  marshy  passage  are  some  large  stones,  the  foundation 
remains  of  a  bridge  connecting  an  old  State  military  road, 
which  many  years  ago  was  opened  through  this  section. 
When  it  was  made,  or  for  what  special  purpose  used  for  mili- 
tary transportation,  we  could  not  learn.  The  road  is  over- 
grown and  almost  obliterated,  but  that  doubtful  quantity,  a 
hunter's  story,  says  it  can  be  followed  in  its  entire  length 
through  the  northern  wilderness. 

The  lower  portion  of  the  main  valley  of  the  lake  soon  came 
in  view,  but  a  long  sweeping  curve  still  shut  off  the  bulk  of 
waters  extending  above  it.  We  chose  for  our  encampment 
an  elevated  point,  and  in  a  few  moments  our  tent  was  in  po- 
sition, bed  gathered  from  neighboring  hemlocks,  and  supper 
in  preparation.  Our  camp-fire  glanced  far  off  upon  the  still 
surface  of  the  lake,  and  "  the  loon's  lone  cry  "  at  intervals 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  53 

broke  the  silence.  With  the  first  novelty  of  the  situation 
worn  off,  sleep  deep  and  refreshing  after  a  day  of  hard  exer- 
cise held  us  firmly  until  morning.  There  is  an  almost  magical 
restorative  effect  from  such  a  couch,  where  the  pure  air  of  the 
mountains  can  get  freely  at  the  lungs.  It  requires  contri- 
vance at  first  to  adjust  yourself  to  an  occasional  inequality  of 
some  projecting  twig,  but  practice  makes  perfect,  and  it  soon 
comes  round  all  right.  I  may  remark  in  passing,  as  I  was  in- 
formed by  Mr.  Blood,  of  Lower  Saranac  hotel,  that  a  party 
from  Utica  left  his  place  for  a  short  stay  at  Big  Tupper  lake, 
among  whom  was  an  invalid  lady.  After  a  month's  trial  of 
camping  experience  she  wrote  back  to  him  that  she  concluded 
to  stay  six  weeks  longer,  was  able  to  eat  fried  pork  with  the 
heartiest  of  them,  and  to  share  untired  in  their  wood  rambles. 

It  is  expected  in  camp  life  in  this  region  that  venison  and 
trout  will  be  usual  dishes  on  the  table.  But  sometimes  from 
necessity,  if  not  choice,  the  bill  of  fare  is  varied.  Our  bill 
of  fare  during  a  day's  sojourn  on  this  lake  was  hasty  pudding 
and  maple  sugar  for  breakfast,  a  wild-duck  stew  with  dump- 
lings for  dinner,  and  frogs'  hind-quarters  for  supper.  If  any 
doubt  the  adaptedness  and  relish  of  such  entertainment  to  the 
situation,  let  them  try  it  and  learn  how  easy  it  is  to  be  mis- 
taken. True,  my  companion  eyed  the  dumplings  with  sus- 
picion, and  thought  they  were  rather  "hefty,"  but  it  was 
only  a  momentary  weakness,  a  lingering  tribute  to  home 
fashions,  as  nothing  was  left  to  show  the  skill  of  the  cook 
but  satisfied  appetite. 

Early  in  the  morning  following  we  were  again  on  the  move, 
and  passing  the  bend  in  the  lake,  had  a  splendid  view  by  early 
sunlight  of  the  upper  and  finest  portion  of  the  lake.  Its  en- 
tire length  is  about  four  miles,  and  from  a  half  to  three-quar- 
ters of  a  mile  in  width,  and  it  is  surrounded  by  an  unbroken 
wilderness.  At  the  time  we  visited  it  there  was  no  other 
party  on  it.  We  learned  that  parties  who  had  preceded  us 
had  baen  very  successful  in  capturing  deer,  several  of  these 
animals  having  been  seen  in  the  day-time  feeding  upon  its 
banks. 


54  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

Near  the  upper  end  of  the  lake,  on  the  left,  we  struck  the 
trail  for  Smith's  lake,  which  is  a  carry  of  three-quarters  of  a 
mile.  The  crossing  is  well  denned,  and  comparatively  easy, 
as  the  bulk  of  the  travel  through  this  section  is  to  this  lake, 
which  is  a  favorite  resort  for  several  parties,  who  have  for 
years  made  it  their  summer  encampment. 

No.  III. 

Smith's  lake,  at  which  place  my  last  note  of  wilderness 
travel  left  us,  bounds  the  summit  level  of  water.  It  is  the 
last  collection  in  this  line  of  basins  which  flow  southerly  aa  a 
tributary  through  the  Mohawk  and  Hudson  to  the  Atlantic. 
"  Charley  Pond,"  as  it  is  called,  the  nearest  water  to  it  on  the 
north,  falls  in  the  opposite  direction  northerly  to  the  St.  Law- 
rence . 

This  lake  is  the  largest  we  have  met  so  far  on  this  route, 
and  has  many  points  of  beauty.  In  its  general  contour  it  has 
much  resemblance  to  Blue  Mountain  lake,  and  in  size  nearly 
equals  it.  A  Syracuse  party,  some  half  dozen  in  number,  had 
just  left  as  we  entered  it.  -Another  party  from  Philadelphia 
had  recently  completed  a  month's  encampment  on  its  banks, 
and  both  were  quite  successful  with  the  rod  and  gun. 

Smith's  lake,  at  least  so  says  hunter's  legend,  takes  its 
name  from  a  misanthrope  by  that  name,  who  some  thirty 
years  ago  fled  from  society  and  made  his  hermit  home  here, 
on  account  of  domestic  troubles.  The  foundations  of  his  log 
house  are  still  visible,  and  a  once  extensive  clearing  made  by 
him,  for  the  uses  of  fuel  aud  other  purposes,  is  now  covered 
with  hardwood  trees,  which  uniformly  succeed  the  original 
pine,  hemlock,  etc.  Passing  through  the  old  clearing,  fifteen 
minutes'  climb  of  the  mountain  brings  to  view  a  splendid  pan- 
orama of  lake  and  wilderness  stretches,  presenting  a  vivid 
sectional  survey  of  the  vast  amount  of  timber  resources,  not 
yet  reached  by  railroad  or  continuous  water  transportation. 

Two  sons  of  Mr.  \Vesson,  the  inventor  of  firearms,  bear- 
ing his  name,  with  two  youthful  companions,  all  of  them  in 


FOKEST    AND    LAKE.  55 

their  "teens,"  with  three  guides,  were  in  camp  here,  highly 
enjoying  the  situation,  and  full  of  marvelous  experiences. 
We  captured  the  only  deer  of  our  roving  trip  on  the  outlet  of 
this  lake,  after  a  long  night  hunt  reaching  into  the  morning 
hours. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  following  our  entrance 
upon  it,  we  were  again  aboard,  steering  for  the  upper  end  of 
the  lake.  Here  a  very  passable  carry  of  a  mile  and  a  half 
brought  us  to  Charley  Pond,  whose  waters,  as  we  have  stated, 
are  the  turning  point  in  a  northerly  direction.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  three  or  four  hours  during  midday  the  air  was  sharp 
and  frosty,  and  woolen  blankets  and  a  substantial  camp-fire 
were  comfortable  additions  to  our  night's  lodgings. 

About  a  mile  down  the  pond  is  the  carry  of  half  a  mile  to 
Little  Tupper,  which  has  an  inlet  from  this  source  of  about 
three  miles,  easy  and  pleasant  boating.  We  stopped  on  the 
way  at  spring-holes  pointed  out  by  the  guide  and  had  a  fine 
catch  of  trout.  Our  camp  was  pitched  on  a  prominence  run- 
ning out  in  the  lake,  covered  by  yellow  pines,  the  first  timber 
of  this  kind  we  had  noticed.  While  enjoying  our  evening 
meal  a  boat  came  up  the  lake,  in  which  were  a  gentleman  and 
lady,  and  approached  our  quarters.  They  inquired  if  we  had 
seen  a  guide  who  had  started  out  in  the  morning  with  his  dog 
to  drive  in  a  deer.  At  that  moment  a  loud  call  was  heard 
from  some  distance  on  the  opposite  shore,  and  they  put  off  to 
meet  him.  Other  boats  containing  ladies  were  seen  gliding 
over  the  lake  during  the  evening.  The  presence  of  dry  goods, 
even  in  the  bloomer  costume,  was  novel  and  refreshing,  and 
iny  companion  and  the  guide  began  to  pay  a  little  more 
attention  to  their  toilet. 

Little  Tupper  is  the  usual  boundary  in  these  Nature's  way- 
side travels  from  a  northerly  direction.  And  indeed  there 
is  no  need  of  going  further  to  find  expanse  of  water,  attract- 
ive seclusion  and  wildness  of  scenery.  Of  irregular  surface, 
dotted  by  islands,  and  spreading  out  into  capacious  bays,  it 
affords  all  desirable  employment  for  rod  and  rifle,  in  the  best 
season  of  such  sport.  From  its  main  inlet  to  the  outlet  it 


56  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

reaches  about  seven  miles,  and  its  geographical  surroundings 
must  for  years  to  come  defy  the  incursion  of  lumbermen. 

At  break  of  day  our  craft  was  pointing  down  the  lake.  The 
fog  was  so  thick  we  could  not  see  a  boat's  length  ahead.  Oc- 
casionally the  dusky  outline  of  trees  required  us  to  solve 
whether  we  were  approaching  shore  or  an  island.  The  sun 
finally  got  sufficient  mastery  of  the  fog,  to  point  the  way,  and 
show  we  had  not  wandered  much  from  the  desired  direction. 
There  were  two  camps,  on  an  extensive  scale,  occupied  at  this 
the  finest  portion  of  the  lake,  one  of  them  including  several 
ladies. 

The  outlet  of  Little  Tupper  is  through  a  marsh  of  water 
plants,  covering  the  surface  so  completely  that  a  little  way  off 
no  passage  can  be  seen  for  boating.  We  threaded  our  way  many 
acres  through  the  lilies,  and  entered  a  round  lake  about  two 
miles  long.  At  its  foot  a  series  of  picturesque  rapids  commence, 
and  for  a  mile  or  so  the  water  boils  over  obstructions  into  deep 
basins,  which  catch  the  eye  as  choice  place  for  trout,  in  the 
season  when  they  lie  at  the  rifts.  On  the  carry  along  these 
rapids  we' met  with  several  shanties,  which  doubtless  had  been 
occupied  by  successful  sportsmen  during  May  and  June.  Still- 
water  now  favored  us  until  we  reached  the  dam  and  saw-mill 
at  the  head  of  Big  Tupper  lake,  the  first  evidence  of  the  cre- 
ative hand  of  civilization  we  had  seen  for  weeks.  It  is  but  a 
few  steps,  and  our  boat  and  baggage  are  let  down  an  embank- 
ment into  these  last-mentioned  waters. 

No.  IV. 

Big  Tupper  is  a  greater  favorite  with  pilgrims  to  the  North 
Woods  than  its  little  namesake,  perhaps  because  it  requires  less 
physical  exertion  to  reach  it.  Their  titles,  however,  are  cal- 
culated to  deceive  an  inquirer,  as  in  size  there  is  hardly  suffi- 
cient difference  to  warrant  the  distinction.  At  some  distant 
day,  when  the  voice  of  the  iron  horse  shall  echo  through  the 
mountain  gorges  surrounding  them,  they  will  doubtless  be 
identified  by  more  imposing  titles. 


FOKEST   AND    LAKE.  57 

At  various  points  011  the  main  shore,  as  well  as  on  the 
islands,  white  tents  glistened  in  the  fading  sunlight,  indicating 
the  more  numerous  proximity  of  fellow  mortals  once  more. 
Boats  filled  with  both  sexes  were  moving  upon  the  waters, 
and  mingling  song  and  merry  laughter  came  upon  the  ear  in 
pleasant  contrast  with  the  surroundings. 

There  are  two  well-known  houses  for  the  accommodation  of 
visitors  on  this  lake.  Graves,  a  Boston  man,  at  the  upper  end, 
has  nearly  completed  a  spacious  edifice,  well-finished  and 
painted,  which  in  addition  to  his  old  quarters  will  enable  him 
to  furnish  ample  room  for  the  increasing  summer  travel  to  this 
locality.  At  the  lower  end,  Moodie's  place,  in  a  beautiful  pine 
grove,  commanding  a  fine  view  of  the  lake,  is  well  patronized. 
Moodie  is  an  old  hunter  and  boatman,  homely  and  pleasant  in 
his  ways,  and  does  his  best  to  make  his  guests  comfortable. 
Here  we  met  our  young  townsman,  Charley  Cornwall,  who  has 
been  boarding  with  Moody  since  last  spring,  and  is  captivated 
with  attractions  of  this  out-of-the-way  life.  A  few  days  pre- 
vious he  met  with  a  very  lively  incident  in  undertaking  a  feat 
which  is  not  laid  down  as  of  any  practical  value  in  hunter's 
tactics.  While  out  in  a  boat  alone  on  the  lake,  he  encountered 
a  buck,  and  went  for  him.  He  grappled  the  animal's  tail,  but 
not  expediting  matters  fast  enough  by  that  hitch,  he  changed 
his  hold  to  the  other  end,  and  essayed  to  pull  him  in  by  the 
horns.  This  suited  buck,  and  his  forefeet  immediately  stuck 
over  the  side  of  the  boat,  to  assist  in  the  operation,  dipping  in 
a  large  cargo  of  water.  The  copartnership  was  suddenly  dis- 
solved, and  this  novel  process  for  capturing  a  deer  in  water 
was  postponed  to  a  more  convenient  season.  Charley  privately 
informed  us  that  he  meant  to  try  to  bag  a  bear  the  coming 
winter.  Should  he  encounter  bruin  there  will  be  no  lack  of 
pluck  and  resources  on  the  part  of  the  young  hunter.  Should 
he  be  compelled  to  run  he  is  developing  a  surprising  length 
of  legs,  which  would  give  him  a  decided  advantage  in  the 
race. 

We  looked  back  upon  Big  Tupper  with  a  lingering  desire 
for  a  longer  acquaintance,  as  we  shot  out  of  its  waters  in  the 


58  FOUEST  AND  LAKE. 

morning.  Raquette  river  comes  down  with  a  sweeping 
curve  almost  to  its  bank,  and  receiving  its  waters  through  a 
very  short  outlet,  bears  them  northwardly  to  the  St.  Lawrence. 
Our  route  lay  up  the  Raquette  to  the  right,  a  charming  row 
of  some  ^twelve  miles.  We  passed  several  parties  going  in. 
Tn  one  boat,  containing  an  oarsman  and  lady,  there  was  a  do- 
mestic history,  whose  particulars  we  did  not  learn  until  we 
reached  the  Lower  Saranac,  where  the  parties  resided.  There 
we  were  informed  that  the  man  was  a  guide  eloping  with  a 
married  woman,  bound  for  love  in  a  shanty  somewhere  in  the 
woods.  She  had  left  a  family  of  six  children,  the  oldest  but 
twelve  years.  Perhaps  the  most  defensible  view  of  Shake- 
speare's 

"Frailty,  thy  name  is  woman," 

is  furnished  when  there  are  six  abandoned  young  children  to 
back  up  the  sentiment.  As  for  the  husband  in  this  case,  the 
trial  was  not  considered  so  serious  that  it  could  not  be  as- 
suaged by  a  well-filled  whisky  bottle,  and  neither  party  were 
quoted  as  models  of  domestic  virtue.  The  neighbors  did  not 
seem  to  regard  the  affair  as  any  "  great  shakes,"  but  if  one  of 
our  Poughkeepsie  reporters  had  been  there  to  work  it  up  and 
interview  the  parties,  what  a  magnificent  sensation  could  have 
been  gotten  up  over  a  desolated  hearthstone  and  blighted 
domestic  happiness. 

We  reached  Daniel's  (formerly  Sweeney's)  carry,  and  found 
the  old  gentleman  with  his  horse  and  cart  ready  to  take  our 
boat  and  baggage.  The  carry  is  three  miles  long,  over  a  very 
good  road,  which  has  been  worked  at  considerable  expense 
through  the  forest.  Two  dollars  and  fifty  cents,  his  charge 
for  transportation,  is  very  reasonable.  Daniels  is  a  veteran, 
verging  on  threescore  and  ten,  and  talked  gliby  of  his  experi- 
ence as  a  soldier  for  the  Union  in  the  recent  Civil  war.  He  was 
at  the  battle  of  Fredericksburg,  and  in  active  service  until  the 
close  of  the  war.  At  that  battle  he  was  prostrated  by  a  dis- 
mounted gun  knocked  over  by  a  rebel  shot,  and  somewhat 
injured,  but  with  this  exception  escaped  harmless.  His  son 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  59 

resides  at  the  Upper  Saranac  end  of  the  carry,  and  during  the 
travel  months  they  find  busy  and  lucrative  employment.' 

Crossing  the  Upper  Saranac  to  Bartlett's  carry,  which  is  but 
a  few  moments'  work,  our  luggage  is  again  transferred  by 
team  to  Saranac  river,  which  we  pass  down,  through  Round 
lake  and  Three  Mile  river  into  Lower  Saranac,  the  last  of 
boat  travel.  About  eight  miles  row  and  we  are  at  Martin's, 
where  we  part  with  the  services  of  our  guide,  and  soon  reach 
Blood's  Hotel.  Having  stopped  there  before,  we  were  pre- 
pared to  find  good  quarters  and  excellent  accommodations. 
His  teams  are  ready  for  service  to  bring  parties  out,  and  those 
who  desire  it  can  take  the  Wilmington  Pass  Route,  through 
the  notch  in  the  mountains,  passing  John  Brown's  old  home- 
stead and  the  place  where  he  lies  buried.  This  ride,  for  the 
unsurpassed  sublimity  of  its  scenery,  is  alone  worth  a  trip  to 
this  place. 

Dropping  down  again  to  the  routine  of  wonted  tasks,  the 
recollection  of  scenes  and  incidents,  refreshing  to  body  and 
mind,  and  sweetening  accompanying  toil,  is  doubtless  in  their 
recapitulation  more  interesting  to  the  writer  than  to  the  reader. 


IN  CANADA  WATERS. 

RAPIDS  DES  JOACHIM,  CANADA  WEST, 
July  22,  1872. 

We  left  Sand  Point  on  the  steamer  Prince  Arthur,  bound 
up  the  lake  to  Gould's  Landing,  about  twenty  miles  distant. 
It  was  a  snug,  swift  and  powerful  boat,  built  for  the  rough 
work  in  which  it  makes  daily  trips,  extending  some  fifteen 
or  twenty  miles  above  our  landing.  Much  of  the  way  she  had 
to  encounter  rafts  of  logs,  now  being  hurried  down  with  extra 
force,  to  reach  the  market  before  the  summer  heat  lowers  the 
streams  above.  One  immense  raft  of  logs  covered  the  surface 
of  the  lake,  and  detained  us  nearly  an  hour.  Scores  of  single 
logs,  escaped  from  the  boom  within  which  they  had  been 


60  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

chained  at  the  start,  were  floating  on  the  lake,  and  over  these 
the  steamer  plowed  its  way,  a  successful  case  of  steamboat 
corduroy  travel.  Frequently  the  pilot's  slowing  bell  warned 
the  engineer  that  one  of  these  obstructions  was  in  the  course 
of  the  boat.  There  was  a  crowd  of  lumbermen  on  board,  who 
had  been  out  of  the  bush  for  a  spree,  and  had  evidently 
brought  a  large  portion  of  it  back  with  them. 

These  lumbermen  constitute  mainly  the  population  of  this 
portion  of  Canada.  Two-thirds  of  them  are  of  Indian  descent, 
the  largest  part  of  them  pure  blood.  They  are  hired  for  a 
term  of  sixty  days,  ninety  days,  or  a  year,  and  generally  are 
faithful  in  service,  while  in  the  bush,  where  no  whisky  can 
be  got.  They  fell  the  pine,  the  only  lumber  here  sought,  a 
good  portion  of  which  is  hewed  to  the  square  before  it  is  com- 
mitted to  float.  The  logs  are  sent  down  singly,  but  the  hewed 
lumber  is  spiked  together  in  what  are  called  "cribs,"  two 
layers  of  massive  logs,  one  crossing  the  other,  and  usually 
committed  to  the  charge  of  two  men,  who  guide  them  down 
the  Ottawa  river,  and  over  the  rapids  which  give  name  to  this 
place,  to  the  level  and  broad  expanse  of  the  same  river  below 
the  long  stretch  of  boiling  and  whirling  water,  which  forms 
an  impetuous  disturbance  of  this  stream  of  rare  interest  to  the 
beholder.  But  to  the  mode  of  lumber  transit  over  the  rapids 
I  may  allude  again. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  these  rough,  if  not  scarcely  half- 
civilized  men,  have  a  life  which  requires  great  muscular  ac- 
tivity and  powers  of  endurance  to  meet  its  daily  demands,  and 
that  once  out  of  its  routine,  where  they  are  fed  by  hard  tack 
and  pork  as  staple  supplies,  it  is  perhaps  natural,  if  not  wise, 
that  they  fly  to  the  extreme  of  indulgence,  and  make  up  when 
released  in  uproarious  dissipation  for  perforced  abstinence. 

But  to  return  to  our  steamer.  Escaped  from  the  booms  and 
floating  logs  we  had  a  pleasant  run,  including  a  novel  experi- 
ence of  a  steamboat  ride  through  a  considerable  stretch  of 
rapids,  in  the  upper  part  of  the  lake,  where  an  island  divides 
the  waters,  leaving  a  narrow  channel  of  falling  waters  as  the 
only  passage. 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  61 

Reaching  Gould's  Landing  we  were  transferred  in  two-horse 
wagons,  several  of  which  were  ready  to  receive  the  large  num- 
ber of  passengers,  returning  to  the  bush,  as  forest  life  is  here 
called.  Our  land  carriage  extended  about  fifteen  miles  to 
Muskrat  lake.  I  may  have  seen  a  rougher  road,  but  1  do  not 
now  remember  where,  unless  it  was  a  subsequent  stretch  of 
land  travel  of  about  the  same  distance  that  night,  which  con- 
nected the  steamboat  route  with  Pembroke. 

At  Mud  lake  another  steamer,  a  miniature  craft,  was  in  wait- 
ing, fired  up.  What  with  passengers,  luggage  and  freight,  it 
was  a  novel  spectacle  at  this  remove  from  any  thing  which 
looked  like  ordinary  channels  of  business  intercourse.  And 
yet,  as  opportunity  subsequently  convinced  us,  this  wild 
thoroughfare  is  one  of  vast  extent  and  immense  profit  to  the 
commercial  association  which  mainly  monopolizes  it.  It  is 
called  the  Union  Forwarding  Company,  who  transport  through 
this  line  by  land  and  water  connections,  reaching  beyond  this 
place  some  twenty  miles,  and  now  building  boats  for  further 
interior  points,  all  the  supplies  for  the  settlements  and  lum- 
bermen encampments.  Sawed  lumber  for  building  materials, 
dry  goods  of  all  descriptions,  clothing,  provisions  and  forage 
are  delivered  here  over  tuis  route  in  quantities  that  surprise 
one  new  toils  demands  and  resources.  Included  in  this  traffic 
are  all  the  supplies  required  for  the  southern  wants  of  the 
vast  fur  gathering  business  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company, 
which  has  at  this  place  its  lower  post. 

The  trip  up  Muskrat  lake  by  moonlight  was  charming. 
Without  change  of  position  we  pass  into  Mud  lake,  which  is 
simply  a  narrowing  of  this  sheet  of  water,  of  shoaler  capacity. 
Why  these  good  enough  names  of  the  aboriginal  lords  of 
these  waters  should  not  now  give  place  to  prettier  titles  is  a 
natural  inquiry.  But  romance  is  at  a  large  discount  here, 
and  things  will  run  in  their  old  rut  till  the  change  sure  to  all 
localities  shall  come. 

We  reached  Pembroke  about  midnight,  an  old-fashioned 
place,  where  the  simple  tenements  built  in  less  active  business 
days,  before  lumbering  became  so  important  a  staple  give 


62  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

aspect  to  the  surroundings.  The  next  morning  the  little 
steamer  Pembroke  took  us  aboard  up  the  Ottawa  river  for 
Des  Joachim,  which  we  reached  soon  after  meridian,  and 
found  comfortable  quarters  at  McDougal's  Hotel,  a  very  quiet, 
well-conducted  house,  where  every  attention  is  paid  to  guests. 

Here  we  met  with  our  correspondent,  Mr.  Spence,  agent  at 
this  post  for  the  Hudson  Bay  Company.  It  is  due  to  acknowl- 
edge our  indebtedness  to  him  for  many  favors  and  courtesies 
freely  rendered,  and  of  much  advantage  to  us.  Indeed, 
throughout  our  entire  Canadian  trip  we  found  hospitality  and 
kindly  aid  on  steamer  and  land,  the  more  agreeable  as  it  was 
not  sought  on  our  part,  or  paraded  on  the  part  of  the  givers. 

We  found  splendid  pike  and  pickerel  fishing  in  the  bay 
formed  by  a  turn  in  the  Ottawa  just  below  the  rapids;  and  in 
a  small  lake,  about  two  miles  from  this  place,  we  took  an 
abundance  of  black  bass,  some  of  heavy  size. 

We  were  somewhat  disappointed  on  reaching  this  place  to 
learn  that  t\vo  Indian  guides,  who  had  been  engaged  for  us, 
had  been  tempted  into  the  lumbering  service,  by  the  high 
wages  which  are  now  paid,  and  the  scarcity  of  laborers- 
needed  to  close  up  the  rafting  business  of  the  season,  now 
becoming  impeded  by  the  falling  of  the  river.  Although 
about  six  hundred  miles  from  home,  we  had  intended  about 
another  hundred  miles'  travel  into  the  wilderness,  above 
marts  of  traffic,  in  order  to  reach  a  more  abundant  game 
region.  But  under  these  circumstances  we  are  compelled  to 
halt  here,  and  take  our  chances.  We  have  engaged  a  couple 
of  Indians  long  enough  to  carry  our  camp  equipage  and  canoe 
to  Trout  lake,  about  five  miles  distant,  and  start  to-morrow, 
where  I  may  possibly  recount  experiences.  Till  then,  adieu. 

No.  II. 

TROUT  LAKE,  July  28. 

A  dull,  drizzling  day,  with  a  cold  easterly  wind,  which 
strikes  our  smouldering  fire  and  drives  the  smoke  directly  into 
camp,  where  we  are  reclining  on  our  rubber  blankets.  Is 
there  any  thing  more  contrary  than  smoke  ?  You  stand  by  a 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  63 

canip-fire  and  it  comes  puffing  up  into  your  face;  you  shift 
position,  and  by  some  mysterious  law  of  attraction  it  faces 
you  again  wit-bout  delay.  As  I  turn  over  the  pages  of  a  work 
of  fiction,  which  George  considerately  put  into  his  knapsack 
for  such  a  contingency  of  weather,  my  tears  would  delight 
the  author  as  an  evidence  of  power  of  his  pathos.  Not  will- 
ing to  admit  that  the  smoke — which  we  have  endured  so 
long  together,  by  many  a  camp-fire,  kindled  by  the  side  of 
almost  every  lake  in  the  North  Woods  —  can  so  overcome 
us,  George  suggests  it  is  a  tearful  outgushing  of  home- 
sickness. This  conclusion  I  resist  with  the  argument,  that 
this  disturbance  in  genuine  form  attacks  but  once,  and 
thereby  vaccinates  against  recurrence. 

Across  the  portage  from  Des  Joachim,  about  two  miles,  over 
a  good  road,  the  communication  by  steamboat  is  again  resumed, 
and  extends  up  the  Ottawa  some  twelve  or  fifteen  miles. 

Before  leaving  Des  Joachim  —  (this  settlement  name  is  a 
capital  one  to  practise  upon,  and  the  variety  of  its  utterances 
would  amuse  the  Frenchman  who  first  invented  it;  the  most 
accepted  one  is  De  Swisk-ah)  —  before  leaving  it,  I  was  about 
to  say,  we  went  up  to  the  head  of  the  rapids  to  witness  the 
employment  of  the  raftsmen.  As  I  stated  in  my  last,  the 
greater  portion  of  the  timber  is  sent  down  singly  in  logs 
of  uniform  length,  and  after  passing  the  rapids  it  is  gathered 
and  confined  by  an  outer  series  of  logs,  chained  at  either  end 
in  a  continuous  circuit.  But  there  is  another  class  of  hewed 
lumber,  composed  of  sticks  twenty  feet  or  more  in  length, 
fifteen  to  eighteen  inches  square,  clear  and  straight,  which  are 
pinned  together  in  a  double  layer,  called  "cribs."  About  a 
dozen  logs  in  each  layer  make  up  these  cribs.  A  dam  is  con- 
structed across  the  river  above  the  rapids,  having  an  outlet 
in  the  shape  of  a  flume,  but  a  little  wider  than  a  crib,  and 
running  some  distance  down  to  the  edge  of  the  boiling  waters. 
The  two  raftsmen  upon  a  crib  start  their  unwieldy  craft  by 
the  aid  of  strips  of  plank  for  oars,  playing  between  two 
pins  on  the  outside  timber,  and  pass  slowly  toward  the 
flume,  or  "slide,"  as  it  is  called.  No  sooner  does  it  reach 


64  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

this  inclined  flume,  than  it  shoots  with  great  velocity  into 
the  whirlpool,  and  while  you  look  with  expectation  for  a 
general  burst-up,  and  the  raftsmen  overboard,  their  steady, 
practised  eye  and  hand  have  kept  their  craft  in  a  direct  course, 
down  like  an  arrow's  flight  through  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of 
bulging  and  roaring  rapids  on  every  side.  Sometimes,  with 
the  utmost  care,  but  more  likely  through  negligence  of  duty 
at  the  critical  moment,  the  crib  swerves  from  the  direct 
course,  and  striking  a  sunken  rock  flies  into  disorder,  and  the 
raftsmen  spring  into  the  water  to  escape  collision  with  the 
wreck.  Two  lives  were  lost  this  spring  at  the  slide  above 
from  this  cause. 

These  slides,  which  are  found  on  all  the  many  streams 
leading  from  the  vast  timber  districts  of  this  country,  are  con- 
structed and  owned  by  the  Provincial  government.  Our  land- 
lord at  Des  Joachim  holds  the  office  of  slide-master  from  the 
government,  and  his  duty  is  to  keep  account  of  every  crib 
which  passed  safely  through.  Each  crib  pays  a  duty  of  two 
dollars.  The  last  raft  which  was  formed  below  the  rapids 
this  season  was  composed  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-two 
cribs,  which  gives  some  idea  of  the  profit  to  the  government 
from  this  source. 

But  this  is  not  the  only  source  of  revenue  from  the  timber 
trade.  The  forests  are  disposed  of  at  auction,  in  divisions 
called  "limits,"  covering  a  territory  of  fifty  to  one  hundred 
miles,  and  the  price  for  choice  limits  sometimes  runs  up  to 
seventy  or  eighty  thousand  dollars.  This  does  not  include  the 
land  the  right  of  which  the  government  retains,  and  settlers 
may  enter  at  any  time  on  a  limit  and  occupy  such  portion  as 
they  may  desire  for  farming  purposes.  This  is  not  unfre- 
quently  the  case,  as  there  is  a  large  demand  for  forage  for 
lumbermen's  teams,  and  oats  and  hay  can  be  raised  in  good 
growth  —  the  former  selling  at  present  for  $1.00  a  bushel, 
and  the  latter  not  unfrequently  in  demand  at  as  high  a  price 
as  $50  and  $60  a  ton. 

We  started  for  Trout  lake  under  the  guidance  of  two 
Indians,  whom  we  were  able  to  coax  away  from  hayfield  en- 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  65 

gagetnents  by  an  extra  remuneration,  aided  by  drizzling  and 
unsuitable  weather  for  field  work.  And  such  a  burden  as 
tliey  will  shoulder  is  a  marvel.  A  large  pack,  weighted  with 
provisions,  cooking  utensils,  ammunition  and  the  many 
et  ceteras  for  camp  life,  is  secured  by  a  long  portage  strap, 
made  for  the  purpose,  leaving  the  portion  of  it  in  the 
center,  where  it  has  the  width  of  about  two  inches,  to  pass 
over  the  head  and  rest  against  the  forehead,  the  only 
hold  the  pack  has  upon  them.  Upon  this  they  piled  the 
tent,  knapsacks  and  other  loose  materials,  and  then  lifted  a 
canoe  upon  their  heads,  and  bending  to  the  load  started  up 
the  mountain  path,  leaving  us  with  our  light  equipment  quick 
work  to  keep  up.  A  stretch  of  five  miles  through  a  blind 
path,  matted  with  underbrush,  up  one  side  of  a  mountain  and 
down  the  other,  promised  sharp  exercise  to  city  legs.  A  sense 
of  the  strangeness  of  the  situation  and  dependence  upon  our 
leaders  kept  us  for  the  first  part  of  the  tramp  in  close  file. 
But  becoming  more  accustomed  to  the  tramp,  and  more  self- 
reliant,  we  loitered  to  notice  peculiarities  of  the  surroundings. 
Our  self-confidence,  however,  was  sadly  misplaced.  Hurrying 
up  to  regain  our  guides  we  found  ourselves  alone,  on  one  of  the 
blindest  portions  of  the  route,  with  scarcely  a  sign  of  a  trod- 
den path.  For  three-quarters  of  an  hour  we  floundered  in  the 
brush,  and  only  by  accident  we  stumbled  upon  a  direction  at 
last  which  brought  us  to  the  place  where  they  were  sitting  on 
a  fallen  tree,  and  apparently  waiting  for  us  to  turn  up.  We 
expected  at  least  a  lively  war  whoop  of  satisfaction  at  our  good 
fortune  in  finding  ourselves  again  in  the  right  way.  But 
without  a  word  of  inquiry  or  expression  of  concern,  they  re- 
sumed the  inarch,  as  if  their  business  extended  solely  to  the 
care  of  the  baggage,  and  not  of  its  owners. 

Talking  of  Indians,  I  am  reminded  of  an  incident  told  us» 
suggestive  of  days  in  this  country  when  they  were  not  so 
harmless  neighbors  as  at  present.  About  twenty  years  ago,  a 
family  by  the  name  of  BUTLER  constructed  a  rude  home  on 
the  Ottawa  river,  opposite  Pembroke.  Soon  afterward  their 
youngest  child,  a  boy  of  three  years,  suddenly  disappeared, 


66  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

and  traces  of  him  were  sought  iu  vaiu.  They  suspected  lie 
had  been  stolen  by  the  Indians,  and  diligent  inquiry  was  made 
among  all  the  settlements  of  that  race,  even  as  high  up  as  Des 
Joachim,  which  was  then  only  a  post  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Com- 
pany, for  traffic  with  the  natives.  But  years  passed  iu  hopeless 
research,  and  at  last  they  gave  up  inquiry,  and  dreamed  no 
more  of  his  return.  I^ast  spring  some  one  who  had  heard  of 
their  loss,  mentioned  that  he  had  seen  a  young  man  at  a  settle- 
ment not  many  miles  distant,  who  had  such  a  history  attached  to 
him.  The  father  immediately  started  to  investigate  the  case, 
and  found  a  youth  now  twenty  years  of  age,  whom  he  believed 
to  be  his  long  missed  son.  The  only  recollections  the  latter 
had  of  his  childhood  were  that  he  lived  with  the  Indians  un- 
til about  seven  years  of  age,  when  they  sold  him  to  a  French 
half-breed,  who  used  him  harshly,  and  he  finally  ran  away. 
On  their  return,  the  mother,  keener  in  parental  perception, 
recognized  distinctive  marks  upon  his  person,  which  the  lapse 
of  time  had  been  equally  powerless  to  efface  from  her  memory. 
The  case  of  another  family  in  the  same  vicinity  was  men- 
tioned, who  suffered  a  like  loss,  through  the  same  agency. 
Possessed  of  considerable  means,  they  spent  it  all  and  impov- 
erished themselves,  in  vain  efforts  far  and  near  to  regain  their 
lost  one.  But  no  tidings  of  him  have  been  heard. 

On  reaching  Trout  lake  the  dusk  of  evening  was  thickening 
upon  us.  Our  guides  soon  pitched  the  tent,  gathered  its  bed 
of  hemlock  branch  tips,  and  roused  a  cheering  fire.  Weari- 
ness had  settled  into  every  muscle  and  joint,  as  we  squatted 
and  watched  our  dusky  companions  fill  a  large  frying  pan 
with  substantial  slices  of  salt  pork.  But  our  stomachs  were 
not  ready  for  so  dainty  a  repast.  If,  however,  we  had  enter- 
tained any  doubts  that  it  was  good,  they  certainly  were  not 
shared  by  our  help.  They  cleaned  the  pan  of  the  solids  and 
sopped  up  the  remainder  with  their  bread,  and  in  the  fullness 
of  their  quiet  and  unemotional  enjoyment  it  would  have  been 
a  severe  stretch  of  fancy  to  find  application  for  "  Lo,  the  poor 
Indian."  The  idea  occurred,  that  for  Lo's  appetite  one  might 
be  reconciled  to  be  Indian,  at  least  during  a  meal  time. 


FOHEST   AND   LAKE.  67 

When  we  "  tucked  in  "  that  night,  it  was  in  accordance 
with  the  most  loyal  devotion  to  the  regulations  of  Congress  — 
without  distinction  of  race,  color,  or  nativity.  Side  by  side  of 
a  stalwart  red-skin  six  footer  I  lay — the  past  all  forgotten  and 
forgiven.  I  bore  him  no  grudge  because  some  of  his  far-off 
ancestors  might  have  made  havoc  with  the  capillary  covering 
of  a  pilgrim  forefather,  or  have  danced  around  a  blazing  cir- 
cuit of  fire  to  which  they  may  have  consigned  him.  I  had  no 
apprehensions  for  my  own  scalp;  I  knew  that  to  lift  much 
hair  there  would  puzzle  even  savage  ingenuity.  But  there 
was  a  novelty  in  the  situation  not  congenial  to  ready  slumber, 
and  it  was  natural  that  I  took  advantage  of  the  light  thrown 
from  the  camp-fire  to  turn  a  side  glance  at  his  bronzed  feat- 
ures. But  I  saw  nothing  except  the  perfect  picture  of  repose 
—  such  as  a  couple  of  pounds  of  fried  pork,  and  a  lining  of 
whisky  (for  the  Indian  rarely  parts  with  that)  might  be  sup- 
posed to  give.  If  he  did  not  sleep  the  sleep  of  the  just,  it  was 
none  of  my  business,  at  that  late  hour.  The  sighing  of  the 
winds  through  the  pine  tops  whose  motion  we  could  see  over- 
head, and  the  murmur  of  the  waters  of  the  lake  close  to  our 
feet,  brought  sleep  defiant  of  novel  bedfellows  and  a  hemlock 
mattress  with  twigs  as  big  as  your  little  finger,  and  very  im- 
pressive on  your  first  introduction  to  such  a  couch. 

As  mentioned  in  my  introduction,  a  rainy  day  confines  us  to 
camp,  and  gives  opportunity  for  these  rough  pencil  sketch- 
ings. 

Trout  lake  is  a  small  basin  of  water,  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
in  length  and  three-quarters  broad.  It  does  not  compare  in 
beauty  of  surroundings  with  hundreds  of  like  mountain  reser- 
voirs in  the  North  Woods  of  our  State.  Indeed  I  have  seen 
nothing  of  Canada  scenery  as  yet  that  bears  such  comparison. 
There  is  a  lack  in  contrast  of  altitude  of  mountain  and  magni- 
tude and  denseness  of  timber  growth.  Farther  in  the  wilds 
of  this  country  it  may  be  that  this  difference  is  less  apparent. 
The  Matteawan  and  Des  Moiues  rivers,  above  us,  I  am  informed 
pass  through  vast  heavy  timbered  territory,  and  lead  to  the 
great  lakes  of  Nepissing  and  Temishtemang,  regions  where 


68  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

Indian  and  half-breed  hunters  find  profitable  occupation  dur- 
ing the  fall  and  winter  season  in  trapping  for  the  Hudson 
Bay  Company.  One  thing  we  have  ascertained  —  that  the  red 
deer  and  caribou,  the  latter  slightly  different  from  the  former, 
are  few  and  far  between  in  this  portion  of  the  northern  for- 
ests. Their  range  is  below  us  some  fifty  or  sixty  miles.  The 
moose  deer,  as  the  large  and  more  solitary  species  of  this  race 
are  called,  hold  possession  of  the  Upper  Canada  forests,  and 
there  seems  to  be  a  natural  repulsion  existing  between  them. 
The  vast  ramifications  of  the  lumber  trade,  fostered  and 
directly  aided  as  it  is  by  the  Canadian  government,  is  a  con- 
stant disturbance  of  the  larger  game,  and  even  the  moose  is 
rarely  seen. 

Our  lake  stopping-place  is  appropriately  named.  Trout  can 
be  readily  taken  in  all  reasonable  abundance,  within  sight  of 
camp.  Our  catch  ranged  from  a  quarter  of  a  pound  to  a  pound 
and  a  half.  There  are  much  larger  ones  in  its  waters,  but 
July  is  a  portion  of  the  year  when  they  rarely  come  from  deep 
waters  to  sport  with  your  hook.  Aside  from  this  there  is 
little  excitement  to  daily  movements.  The  only  animal  foot- 
prints on  its  shores  which  are  noticeable  are  the  fresh  tracks 
of  bears,  but  these  we  have  no  desire  to  follow  up.  Our  only 
companion  on  the  lake  is  a  loon,  who  is  considerably  demoral- 
ized at  our  interloping  upon  his  quarters,  as  he  rises  occasion- 
ally, wings  his  way  over  and  around  our  camp,  and  then 
settles  back  to  consider  the  situation.  At  night  we  hear  his 
lone  cry,  the  very  voice  of  solitude,  through  the  intervals, 
sounding  almost  human  in  its  utterance. 

And,  by  the  way,  George  tells  in  privacy  a  very  good  ex- 
perience in  this  line,  which  I  must  let  out.  Some  two  decades 
ago,  on  his  first  visit  to  the  Adirondacks  with  a  companion, 
both  but  lads,  they  heard  on  the  first  night,  after  they  had 
retired  to  their  log  shanty,  a  strange  wild  cry  out  in  the  depths 
of  the  darkness,  which  they  supposed  to  be  some  lost  fellow- 
being  shouting  for  help.  They  arose  and  went  a  piece  into 
the  forest,  fired  their  guns  and  shouted,  but  the  only  response 
was  the  same  weird,  mournful  cry,  coming  from  different 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  6U 

points,  as  the  great  northern  diver  changed  its  quarters.  The 
startling  thought  then  seized  them  that  the  forest  was  haunted, 
and  they  hastened  back  to  camp  and  barricaded  its  rude  door 
and  watched  in  fitful  apprehension  till  daylight  brought  its 
relief.  The  next  day,  while  boating  on  the  lake,  their 
feathered  ghost  gave  them  a  daylight  strain  of  its  music,  and 
turned  a  fund  of  experience  in  the  hobgoblin  line  into  a 
capacious  joke. 

No.  III. 

My  last  was  dated  from  Trout  lake,  which  has  ceased  to  be 
attractive,  from  its  diminutive  limits  and  general  quiet.  The 
capture  of  trout,  exciting  as  the  sport  may  be  for  a  time,  be- 
comes a  monotonous  and  indifferent  employment  after  a  sea- 
son of  success,  especially  when  you  have  a  camp  supply.  Our 
guides  had  agreed  to  return  at  a  specified  time  and  take  out 
our  camp  equipments.  As  we  were  ready  in  advance  for  a 
change,  we  filled  our  knapsacks  with  what  articles  we  wanted 
to  carry  out,  packed  the  rest  in  the  smallest  compass  and 
covered  them  with  a  canoe,  and  shouldering  our  load  with 
gun  in  hand  took  the  return  path.  Our  preparations  had  de- 
layed us  until  nearly  noon  of  one  of  the  hottest  days  of  the  sea- 
son. The  odor  of  the  pine  and  other  forest  trees  seemed  to  add 
to  the  sultriness  of  the  atmosphere,  and  weighed  as  we  were 
we  went  through  a  sweating  of  the  first  magnitude.  The  whirr 
of  the  partridge  was  frequently  heard,  and  alighting  on  trees 
adjoining  our  path  furnished  an  easy  mark.  This  game  bird 
is  very  numerous  through  this  region,  and  we  found  no  diffi- 
culty in  changing  from  fish  to  a  partridge  broil.  The  road 
seemed  to  have  increased  in  length  and  ruggedness,  but  the 
difference  may  be  accounted  for  in  the  extra  burden.  There 
was  a  sense  of  great  relief  as  we  caught  sight  of  the  Ottawa 
rapids,  and  the  home-like  quarters  of  our  friend  McDougal 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river. 

The  next  morning  we  started  for  McCulloni  lake,  about  a 
mile  distant,  where  by  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Tait,  a  canoe  had 


70  FOKEST   AND   LAKE. 

been  sent  in  and  placed  at  our  disposal.  We  were  told  that  it 
abounded  in  pickerel  and  black  bass,  and  we  found  it  so. 
Our  catch  was  a  very  fine  one,  the  bass  ranging  from  one  to 
three  pounds,  and  our  largest  pickerel  a  good  four  pounder. 
On  taking  home  our  second  day's  string,  a  good  jag  for  a  dray 
cart,  we  saw  by  the  countenances  of  the  domestics  of  the 
house  that  they  considered  the  fish  market  overstocked,  and 
that  we  were  trespassing  on  good  nature,  and  we  somewhat 
reluctantly  gave  up  the  business. 

An  incident  occurred  on  this  lake  xvhich  will  do  for  a  fish 
story,  having  the  advantage  of  being  as  true  as  it  was  singular. 
One  of  our  trolls  was  struck,  and  while  being  hauled  in  it  en- 
countered an  obstruction  and  parted.  This  was  about  ten  in 
the  forenoon.  On  repassing  in  the  same  locality  some  eight 
hours  later,  Johnny  Welsh,  our  youthful  paddler,  stopped 
the  canoe,  saying  lie  thought  he  saw  back  a  little  ways  a  line 
wound  around  the  branches  of  a  sunken  tree.  Going  back  we 
saw  sure  enough  the  lost  line,  tangled  among  limbs  about 
eight  feet  below  the  surface.  The  water  of  this  lake  is  very 
clear,  and  we  detected  a  pickerel  captive  to  the  line,  and  play- 
ing around  him  were  several  large  bass,  either  from  sym- 
pathy with  his  situation,  or  making  sport  with  his  folly. 
Johnny  gave  evidence  of  ancestral  aptitude  for  wit,  by 
quietly  remarking  that  they  were  getting  ready  to  hold  a  wake. 
After  a  half  an  hour's  patient  unfolding  of  the  coil  with  the 
paddle  reaching  down  to  his  arm  pit,  George  brought  it  up 
with  a  three  pound  pickerel  attached. 

This  lake  is  very  picturesquely  located ;  most  of  its  stretch  is 
bordered  with  lofty  rocky  cliffs,  of  sheer  descent,  and  marked  in 
many  places  with  veins  of  iron  ore.  When  the  lumbering  re- 
sources fail  this  country,  as  in  a  few  years  they  must,  it  has 
doubtless  mineral  treasures  which  will  receive  profitable  at- 
tention. To  those  who  enjoy,  as  we  did,  a  few  days'  recrea- 
tion upon  its  waters  with  the  rod  and  line,  we  do  not  know  of  a 
more  attractive  and  satisfactory  resort.  With  good  hotels 
near  by,  at  very  moderate  charges,  the  river  furnishing  also 
fine  sport  in  the  capture  of  what  is  known  as  the  "Ottawa 


FOKEST   AND   LAKE.  71 

pike,"  the   angler  will  have  no  reason  to  complain  of  dull 
employment. 

On  our  return  trip  we  reached  the  city  of  Ottawa  the  second 
evening  after  leaving  Des  Joachim.  Instead  of  stopping  at 
Sand  Point  we  kept  the  steamer  Prince  Arthur  to  the  lower 
end  of  Chats  lake,  where  it  connects  with  a  horse  railway,  of 
about  three  miles,  the  entire  distance  over  trestle  work,  and 
said  to  be  the  first  railway  constructed  in  the  Canadas.  At 
the  terminus  we  reach  another  lake  of  about  thirty  miles  in 
this  connecting  link  of  travel,  where  the  fine  steamer  Jesse- 
('assels  was  ready  to  speed  us  onward.  >"ear  the  western  end 
of  this  lake  the  Ottawa  unites  with  it  in  a  splendid  cascade, 
delighting  the  eye  with  its  rare  beauty.  This  steamer  lands, 
at  its  terminus,  at  Aylmer,  quaint  and  old-fashioned  in  its 
general  appearance  and  surroundings,  yet  withal  a  very 
pretty  and  apparently  prosperous  village,  giving  a  fine  farm- 
ing outlook.  Here  we  took  stage  over  a  good  macadamized 
road  to  the  city  of  Ottawa,  the  capital  of  the  Ontario  depart- 
ment, where  the  Canadian  Parliament  holds  its  sessions. 

We. would  repeat  our  expressions  of  obligation  to  the  cap- 
tains, clerks  and  their  assistants  in  charge  of  the  different 
steamers  on  the  line  of  the  Union  Transportation  Company  in 
the  Western  Canada  waters.  We  found  them  an  intelligent, 
liberal-minded  class,  taking  especial  pains  to  render  courte- 
sies and  afford  information  to  visitors  from  the  States.  While 
appreciating  highly,  as  well  they  may,  the  advantages  which 
they  possess  in  their  government  policy,  and  the  light  bur- 
dens which  it  imposes,  they  are  unreserved  iu  their  acknowl- 
edgments of  obligation  to  citizens  of  the  States  who  have 
entered  into  business  among  them,  especially  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  lumber  trade.  They  assured  us  that  the  present 
prosperity  of  Canada  was  owing  in  a  large  measure  to  the 
superior  knowledge  in  conducting  this  trade  of  such  citizens 
from  this  side  as  Eddy  &  Co.,  Bronsou,  Weston  &  Co.,  Hamil- 
ton Brothers,  etc.  But  while  benefiting  others  these  firms 
have  struck  a  mine  of  wealth  for  themselves.  We  were  in 
formed  that  the  firm  of  Eddy  &  Co.  have  realized  a  profit 


72  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

over  all  outlays  in  the  lumbering  trade  this  season  of  over 
$200,000.  This,  with  the  thousand  or  more  men  in  their  employ, 
and  the  amount  of  supplies  to  keep  them  steadily  at  work  in 
the  forests,  nine  months  of  the  year,  will  afford  some  idea  of 
the  vastness  of  this  business  as  conducted  by  one  firm.  And 
this  explains  why,  where  we  expected  to  find  a  quiet  wilder- 
ness, we  should  hear  daily  the  shrill  scream  of  the  incoming 
steamer,  laden  with  men  and  merchandise,  hundreds  of  miles 
into  the  Ottawa  wilderness. 

My  companion  having  an  engagement  which  called  him  in 
a  different  direction,  I  parted  with  him  at  Ottawa,  after  a  few 
hours'  survey  of  its  municipal  features.  Taking  the  rail  for 
Prescott  at  10  i*.  M. ,  I  reached  the  latter  place  a  little  after 
midnight.  I  was  anxious  to  connect  with  the  morning  train 
from  Ogdensburg  to  avoid  detention  over  Sunday.  But  the 
St.  Lawrence  ferry-boat  was  laid  up  for  the  night.  Runners 
for  the  hotels  at  Prescott  assured  me  that  I  could  not  cross 
the  river  at  that  hour.  In  this  state  of  perplexity  a  boatman 
came  up  and  offered  to  put  me  over.  Hotel  runners  advised 
me  not  to  go.  said  he  would  fleece  me,  he  was  not  a  safe  per- 
son, etc.  My  desire  to  cross  over  led  me  to  accept  his  offer. 
With  considerable  difficulty,  and  I  thought  with  somewhat 
unsteady  steps,  he  succeeded  in  getting  my  heavy  trunk  into  his 
rather  diminutive  boat,  and  I  followed  him  in,  somewhat 
dubious  that  I  had  made  a  mistake.  The  river  at  this  point 
is  about  a  mile  and  a  half  in  width.  Out  into  the  dark  we 
moved,  and  when  about  half  way  over  my  boatman  said  his 
price  was  three  dollars,  and  he  must  have  his  pay,  or  he 
wouldn't  go  further.  I  replied  as  I  had  made  no  terms  t"itlt 
him  I  shouldn't  object  to  his  price,  but  would  pay  him  noth- 
ing until  he  lauded  at  Ogdensburg,  and  if  that  'didn't  suit 
him  he  might  return.  After  growling  and  threatening  for 
a  while,  he  resumed  his  oars.  By  this  time  he  was  pretty 
effectually  drunk,  and  beat  about  in  one  direction  and  an- 
other, until  I  was  apprehensive  of  getting  more  navigation 
than  the  $8  would  pay  for.  In  the  meantime  he  was  en- 
lightening me  on  his  history.  He  had  been  a  printer  and 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  73 

could  "  wallop  tlie  type,"  as  lie  expressed  it,  "  ahead  of  any 
thing  on  two  legs."  Then  he  took  to  sailor  life  on  the  lakes, 
and  now  he  was  running  a  night  express  between  Prescott 
and  Ogdensburg,  and  could  throw  a  boat  across  quicker  than 
any  other  man.  I  observed  that  he  cast  frequent  glances  to- 
ward the  American  shore,  and  at  first  supposed  he  was 
watching  to  see  if  any  of  the  revenue  officials  were  on  the 
alert,  as  our  appearance  at  that  hour  of  the  night  was  sus- 
picious enough  to  attract  attention.  But  we  might  have 
smuggled  over  half  of  Canada,  for  any  interference  of  Uncle 
Sam's  officials,  and  just  then  I  should  have  relished  being 
overhauled  for  smuggling.  It  was  another  difficulty  that 
troubled  my  boatman.  He  didn't  know  his  bearings  any 
more  than  his  passenger  did.  At  length  we  brought  up 
against  a  wharf,  the  top  of  which  was  some  six  feet  above  us, 
and  then  came  an  interesting  struggle.  For  a  time  it  was 
"nip and  tuck,"  whether  the  trunk  would  go  u p  or  accompany 
my  Charon  to  the  bottom.  I  was  in  a  mood  to  bet  on  the  lat- 
ter, and  felt  as  the  Irishman  did  who  wagered  that  his  fellow 
hodman  couldn't  carry  him  on  his  back  up  a  high  ladder  ; 
"  when  he  made  one  false  step  I  was  in  hopes  I  had  him." 
But  drunken  perseverance  prevailed,  and  I  was  landed  in  the 
silence  of  the  night,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  any  hotel.  Not 
a  step  further  would  he  budge,  as  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  get 
back  and  help  some  other  benighted  traveler  over.  As  he 
stumbled  back  into  his  boat,  it  was  a  natural  suggestion, 
whether  any  sincere  mourner  would  stand  over  his  remains, 
as  they  must,  in  the  order  of  events,  ere  long  be  picked  out 
of  the  St.  Lawrence. 

Finding  my  way  to  the  Seymour  House,  where  the  colored 
porter  always  sleeps  with  one  eye  open,  I  found  that  a  rush 
of  guests  had  left  but  one  room  unoccupied,  and  I  was  as- 
signed to  its  comfortable  quarters.  I  had  accomplished  my 
purpose,  and  was  compensated  for  the  annoyances,  as  at  the 
close  of  a  month's  absence,  the  eye  met  familiar  objects. 


74  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

No.  IV. 

EAGANSVILLE,  RENFREW  COUNTY,  ) 
August  3,  1874.  j" 

We  reached  Armstrong's,  the  headquarters  of  this  place, 
and  have  been  making  our  arrangements  for  going  into  camp 
on  Round  lake,  about  forty  miles  northwest,  following  up  the 
Bonne  Chere  river.  This  river  is  the  outlet  of  Round  lake, 
and  Golden  lake,  the  former  about  seven  miles  long,  and  the 
latter  about  the  same  dimensions.  We  strike  the  river  about 
twenty-five  miles  above  Eagansville,  by  land  conveyance,  and 
from  thence  by  canoes,  passing  through  Golden  lake. 

These  lakes  are  a  popular  resort  during  the  fall  months. 
Hunting  parties  find  not  only  deer  in  abundance,  but  also 
wolves  and  bears,  the  latter  reported  as  very  numerous  this 
season.  Eagausville  is  a  quiet  little  place,  built  on  both  sides 
of  the  river,  and  mainly  interested  in  the  lumber  trade. 

Canada  has  doubtless  an  autumnal  season  of  cool  and  bracing 
weather,  after  frost  sets  in,  but  in  August,  beast,  bird  and 
fish  yield  to  the  sun's  sultry  influence,  and  are  not  at  home 
to  anybody  who  desires  their  company.  This  has  been  pecu- 
liarly the  case  in  the  present  season  when  a  five  weeks'  drouth 
lay  scorching  and  shriveling  upon  land  and  water. 

Northwest  of  Eagansville,  in  Renfrew  county,  are  the  two 
lakes  above  mentioned,  big  jewels  strung  on  the  comparatively 
slender  thread  of  Bonne  Chere  river,  which  running  tbrough 
them  finds  its  outlet  in  Chats  lake,  near  Sand  Point,  and  is 
the  channel  of  an  immense  lumbering  trade.  The  available 
timber  bordering  this  water-course  has  been  pretty  thoroughly 
cleared  out  for  many  miles  above  the  upper  lake.  Parties 
purchasing  of  the  Canadian  government  the  right  to  lumber 
for  a  limited  term  of  years  have  improved  their  opportunity, 
until  unproductive  pine  barrens  are  the  unsightly  substitute 
for  a  once  interlacing  foliage  of  towering  forests.  What  the 
axe  has  left  has  been  swept  by  fire,  whose  tract  is  a  marked 
feature  of  this  and  other  wilderness  parts  of  the  Dominion 
where  I  have  traveled. 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  To 

Round  lake,  where  \ve  camped,  abounds  in  pickerel  and 
lake  trout.  The  former  of  large  size  and  are  caught  in  abun- 
dance. The  latter  are  taken  with  hook  and  spear  by  the 
Indians  by  the  barrel-full,  and  laid  down  by  them  for  winter 
consumption.  Brook  trout  are  rarely  found  in  this  lake,  as 
they  are  not  on  friendly  terms  with  their  bulkier  relations  of 
the  same  family  genus.  The  Madawasca  river,  which  empties 
into  this  lake,  we  were  told  had  a  reputation  as  a  trout  stream. 
We  followed  it  one  sultry  day  about  three  miles  to  the  slides, 
built  for  delivering  logs  over  the  Falls.  A  couple  of  hours 
fishing  here  yielded  sixteen  of  good  proportions.  A  second 
visit  was  less  successful  in  number,  but  of  larger  size.  While 
we  were  thus  engaged,  our  guide,  who  had  been  in  the  woods 
shooting  wild  pigeons,  came  in  and  informed  us  he  had  seen 
two  bears  not  far  away,  and  proposed  we  should  make  a  raid 
on  them,  but  we  did  not  take  impulsively  to  the  offer.  It  is  a 
sound  principle  that  only  one  employment  can  be  successfully 
prosecuted  at  a  time,  and  of  the  two  we  preferred  to  work  a 
line  in  the  water,  even  if  the  fish  didn't  bite. 

And  writing  of  bears  we  are  reminded  of  a  serio-comic  inci- 
dent which  occurred  during  our  brief  stay  at  Round  lake.  A 
party  from  Corning,  in  this  State,  came  in  and  camped  near  us. 
One  of  their  guides,  Totn  Armstrong,  an  old  woodman  famil- 
iar with  these  grounds  for  a  score  of  years,  went  out  to  a 
beaver  meadow  early  in  the  afternoon  to  recover  a  hatchet  he 
had  dropped  there.  After  a  long  and  unsuccessful  search  he 
turned  to  retrace  his  steps,  but  had  not  proceeded  far  when  he 
heard  the  growling  of  a  bear,  too  familiar  sound  to  him  to  be 
mistaken  in  their  source,  or  to  excite  apprehension.  But  he 
was  soon  made  aware  that  there  were  a  couple  of  cubs  in  the 
programme  of  exercises,  and  this  put  a  difficult  face  on  the  in- 
terview. The  cubs  trotted  before,  and  Mrs.  Bear  kept  close 
attention  behind,  and  as  Tom  was  destitute  of  any  weapon  of 
any  .sort,  it  was  a  clear  case  of  discretion  being  the  better 
part  of  valor.  Up  a  small  tree  went  Tom,  not  large  enough 
to  allow  a  side  hug  of  its  body  to  the  enraged  mother.  And 
here  for  a  moment  we  leave  Tom,  with  a  first-class  opportunity 


76  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

to  view  from  his  elevated  post  the  lake  and  its  surrounding 
scenery,  and  an  interesting  specimen  of  the  animal  kingdom 
in  closer  survey. 

Our  camping  ground  had  increased  in  population  by  an  ac 
cession  of  two  young  men  from  Philadelphia,  taking  a  part  of 
their  college  vacation  in  the  woods,  and  of  the  right  material 
for  camp  life  —  enjoying  every  thing,  and  taking  to  all  the 
little  perplexing  minutiae  of  the  situation  with  exemplary 
philosophy.  Toward  night,  one  after  another  the  boats  re- 
turned from  the  fishing  grounds  on  the  lake,  and  supper  as 
usual  became  a  subject  of  general  interest.  The  din  of  prepa- 
ration was  soon  heard  on  all  sides,  and  the  shades  of  even- 
ing had  set  in  before  any  note  was  taken  of  Tom's  prolonged 
absence.  But  the  inquiry  was  no  sooner  started,  than  surmises 
were  expressed  that  there  was  something  wrong.  To  add  to 
the  distrust  that  was  creeping  over  us,  one  of  the  party  who 
had  remained  in  the  camp  during  the  afternoon,  and  who  was 
aware  of  Tom's  mission  into  the  woods,  recollected  that  about 
two  hours  previous  he  had  heard  some  one  shouting  several 
times,  apparently  a  considerable  distance  in  the  woods,  but 
thought  it  was  nothing  more  than  the  frolicsome  utterance  of 
somebody  who  wanted  to  make  a  noise.  This  revelation  set- 
tled all  doubt  on  the  mystery.  One  of  our  guides,  in  the 
vigorous  and  unrestricted  language  very  noticeable  among  his 
class,  expressed  his  solemn  belief  that  Tom  had  been  eaten 
up  by  bears,  and  called  for  recruits  to  start  at  once  in  search 
of  the  victim.  A  J  skirmishing  party  enlisted  at  once,  firing 
their  guns  at  intervals,  and  soon  a  voice  of  distress  came  sound- 
ing back  from  the  depths  of  the  wilderness.  It  was  Tom's 
voice  sure,  still  living,  but  confined  and  in  peril.  Firearms 
were  then  shouldered  by  the  reserves  in  camp,  dogs  were 
loosed  and  the  rescuing  party  became  formidable.  Ever  and 
anon  there  was  a  pause  in  the  march,  and  a  signal  called  for, 
to  obtain  the  direction. 

It  was  time  now  for  the  bear  to  quake  and  turn  tail.  The 
reinforcement  was  more  than  she  could  encounter,  and  with 
a  parting  growl,  giving  Tom  a  full  view  of  her  splendid  but 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  77 

disappointed  set  of  grinders,  she  plunged  into  the  thicket  with 
her  cubs.  The  relieving  party  reached  the  scene  of  peril  just 
as  Tom,  who  like  Zaccheus  had  climbed  a  tree  but  with  less 
devotional  feeling,  came  down  to  solid  earth  again.  For  three 
mortal  hours  he  had  clung  to  his  slender  supports,  while  bruin 
had  played  "the  performing  bear"  with  a  variety  of  antics 
and  a  savage  determination  of  purpose  not  visible  in  the  ordi- 
nary street  performances  of  her  kind.  The  tree  bore  scoring 
marks  of  her  fruitless  attempts  to  reach  her  prisoner.  Tom 
had  begun  to  despair  of  rescue,  and  it  looked  to  him  as  if  she 
was  determined  to  fight  it  out  on  that  line.  He  begged  us 
never  to  mention  to  a  living  soul  that  he  had  been  treed  and 
held  captive  for  three  hours  by  a  bear,  as  he  would  never  hear 
the  last  of  it.  He  had  lived  over  twenty  years  of  varied  ex- 
perience in  the  woods,  but  he  had  never  before  dodged  an 
issue  with  a  bear. 


DOWN  THE  RAPIDS. 

No.  I. 

August  30,  1873. 

In  compliance  with  a  friend's  request,  after  a  mid-summer's 
vacation,  I  will  attempt  a  report  of  some  of  the  land  and  water 
incidents  of  a  new  field  of  adventure,  through  the  waters  and 
forests  adjoining  the  Michagamma  and  Menominee  rivers,  the 
boundary  line  for  a  long  distance  between  the  States  of  Michi- 
gan and  Wisconsin. 

By  rail  to  Detroit,  from  thence  directly  aboard  the  staunch 
and  spacious  propeller  St.  Paul,  and  we  reached  the  point 
where  we  expected  to  meet  novelty  of  surroundings.  The 
steward  of  our  vessel,  Mr.  H.  M.  Drake,  has  long  been  a 
favorite  of  the  traveling  public  on  this  route.  His  position 
was  no  sinecure,  for  he  had  to  provide  "  meat  in  season,"  as 
well  as  other  comforts  for  an  army  of  guests.  On  the  pre- 
vious trip,  the  passengers  on  the  St.  Paul,  bound  to  the  different 
points  up  the  lakes,  numbered  four  hundred  and  fifty,  and 
there  were  three  hundred  and  fifty  on  this  passage. 


78  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

The  St.  Paul  slipped  her  cables  about  midnight,  and  run- 
ning through  St.  Glair  in  the  darkness,  we  lost  sight  of  much 
attractive  scenery.  Morning  brought  us  in  view  of  Port 
Huron,  a  thrifty  and  pleasant  looking  town  at  the  foot  of  Lake 
Huron.  As  we  looked  off  from  the  steamer  we  thought  of  the 
old  subscribers  to  the  "  Telegraph,"  at  that  place,  with  a 
strong  desire  to  stop  and  shake  hands  with  them. 

"  Ten  hours  going  through  Huron,"  said  the  captain,  as  we 
reached  the  upper  end  of  the  lake.  Safely  and  pleasantly  our 
craft  glided  over  it,  not  always  the  case  in  lake  navigation  ;  for 
the  winds  often  battle  fiercely  with  the  steamers.  Not  many 
months  since  a  vessel  went  wildly  down  into  the  dark  waters 
of  Huron,  carrying  to  a  watery  grave  nearly  all  on  board. 

The  upper  waters  of  the  lake  are  exceedingly  picturesque, 
dotted  with  numerous  islands,  rivaling  in  romantic  scenery 
the  famous  "  thousand "  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  At  its  head, 
the  notable  "  Sault  Ste.  Marie,"  at  the  foot  of  St.  Mary's  river, 
breaks  into  rapids  for  a  long  distance,  compelling  access  to 
the  waters  of  Lake  Superior  by  some  other  channel.  To  meet 
this  want  a  canal  has  been  cut  through,  and  we  were  lifted 
by  two  locks  to  the  requisite  level.  While  waiting  this  pro- 
cess we  watched  a  party  of  Indians  plying  their  nets  in  the 
rapids  for  white  fish,  which  they  were  very  successful  in  cap- 
turing. While  one  at  the  stern  steadied  a  canoe  up  against 
the  rushing  waters,  another  at  the  bow  thrust  a  small  net 
down  with  the  current,  and  we  could  see  the  white  treasures 
clearly  defined  against  the  darker  shade  of  the  meshes  which 
inclosed  them. 

Darkness  overtook  us  soon  after  entering  Lake  Superior,  an 
unwelcome  interruption,  for  the  shores  are  lined  with  objects 
of  great  interest  to  unfamiliar  eyes.  We  were  compelled  to 
turn  within  for  occupation,  as  a  relief  from  the  dull  and  drear 
employment  of  standing  by  a  vessel's  railing,  on  the  wide 
waste  of  waters,  listening  to  the  ceaseless  monotone  of  the  clash- 
ing waves. 

But  the  little  world  inside  was  full  of  peculiar  interest. 
People  of  different  nationalities  and  tongues  were  grouped  to- 


FOKKST  AND  LAKE.  79 

getlier  ;  some  doubtless  seeking  their  El  Dorado  in  the  mining 
and  lumbering  districts  of  this  inviting  section:  some,  per- 
chance, like  ourselves,  though  in  a  different  direction,  courting 
recreation  and  freedom  from  wonted  toils  and  business  cares, 
where  nature  holds  her  secluded  courts  with  her  mountains 
and  waters;  and  some,  simply  "going  home,"  perhaps  won- 
dering at  the  curiosity  which  could  attract  others  so  far. 

But  there  was  one  class  of  humanity,  several  of  whom  were 
on  board,  standing  out  sacredly  apart  in  human  interest  from 
all  the  rest,  and  yet  apparently  hopeful,  life's  last  venture  in- 
volved in  the  issue.  More  to  these  drooping,  feeble  ones, 
gathering  their  limbs  wearily  to  the  burden  they  bore,  were 
the  health-giving  promises  of  Nature's  elixir  in  this  reputed 
Bethesda,  than  all  its  abundant  gold-turning  products  could 
offer  to  the  mere  wealth  seeker.  And  one  could  not  avoid  the 
reflection,  how  trivial  and  transitory  were  all  the  motives  ac- 
tuating the  rest,  compared  with  the  deep  yearnings  and  hope- 
ful anticipations  of  these  fellow  mortals,  longing  for  freedom 
again  from  familiar  pain  and  wasting  disease. 

No.  II. 

About  9  o'clock  Sunday  morning  the  St.  Paul  rounded  into 
the  harbor  of  Marquette.  our  destination  on  Lake  Superior. 
The  port  was  lined  with  shipping,  mostly  employed  in  the 
transportation  of  iron  ore,  of  which  product  this  place  is  a 
great  center.  For  the  delivery  of  the  ore  an  immense  wooden 
pier  extends  some  distance  into  the  lake.  The  loaded  ore 
cars  run  on  to  the  pier  and  drop  their  contents  through  slides 
or  shutes  into  vessels  beneath.  Sometimes  from  thirty  to 
forty  boats  are  waiting  outside  for  their  turn  at  loading.  Cars 
are  coming  and  going  continuously  from  the  Republic  iron 
mines — to  which  we  shall  have  occasion  to  refer  more  par- 
ticularly—  and  the  clatter  of  dropping  ore  is  familiar  music. 

The  national  government  has  constructed  a  substantial 
breakwater,  running  out  nearly  half  a  mile,  for  the  protection 
of  shipping.  The  harbor  of  Marquette  has  many  points  of 
rare  beauty,  of  which  its  citizens  may  well  be  proud.  It 


80  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

abounds  in  good  fishing,  as  a  short  experience  in  its  waters 
amply  demonstrated,  and  it  is  a  popular  summer  resort. 
About  every  other  person  has  an  abiding  faith  that  he  may 
become  the  possessor  of  a  valuable  mineral  deposit,  so  abund- 
ant are  the  developments  of  iron,  copper  and  silver  in  this 
region,  fine  natural  specimens  of  these  ores  being  exhibited 
in  great  variety  in  business  places. 

At  Marquette  we  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  our  friend 
and  generous  assistant  in  providing  the  agencies  for  our 
intended  excursion  —  Mr.  B.  F.  CHILDS  —  previously  unknown 
to  us,  except  through  correspondence.  My  companion,  Mr. 
Slee,  had  played  a  photographic  joke  on  his  brother  artist, 
having  forwarded  as  his  likeness  a  photograph  of  Cashier 
NoRTtt,  of  this  city.  With  this  imposing  and  venerable  pic- 
ture in  hand,  Mr.  CHILDS  had  perambulated  the  spacious 
corridors  of  the  "North-Western  Hotel,"  scanning  the  guests 
who  thronged  them,  looking  in  vain  for  the  original.  It  was 
a  North- western  joke,  duly  appreciated  and  atoned  for.  Mr. 
Childs'  elegant  Art  Gallery  is  one  of  the  popular  resorts  of 
that  city.  His  specialty  of  stereoscopic  views,  known  as 
''Gems  of  Lake  Superior,"  are  in  great  demand,  and  lake 
tourists  who  visit  Marquette  rarely  miss  the  opportunity  to 
purchase  some  of  these  graphic  delineations  of  the  great 
lake,  of  which  he  has  the  most  complete  collection.  With 
only  a  single  assistant  to  help  manage  his  small  sail  boat,  he 
has  spent  years  in  cruising  along  the  coasts  and  into  the  bays 
of  Lake  Superior,  to  gather  subjects  for  artistic  reproduction. 
A  passionate  lover  of  nature,  with  the  eye  and  hand  of  an 
artist  true  to  their  vocation,  he  has  early  in  life  won  an  honor- 
able record,  and  his  refined  social  and  gentlemanly  qualities 
happily  commend  him  to  a  large  circle  of  friends. 

Here  we  had  an  introduction  to  our  guides.  The  first  in 
mention,  Henry  St.  Arneuld,  is  the  son  of  a  Frenchman; 
holding  a  responsible  position  in  the  employ  of  one  of  the 
large  companies  engaged  in  the  mining  developments  of  the 
Northwest.  His  mother  is  a  full  blood  Chippewa  squaw. 
Henry  has  all  the  vivacity,  readiness  of  humor,  colloquial 


FOREST   AND   LAKE.  81 

volubility  and  adaptability  to  circumstances  of  liis  paternal 
descent.  But  his  Indian  mother  stamped  upon  him  her  native 
attachment  to  the  wild  and  unfettered  pursuits  of  her  race, 
and  trade  or  traffic  cannot  allure  him  from  them.  He  is  in 
his  best  element  as  an  exploring  agent  in  the  wilderness,  or 
still  more  congenial  as  a  guide  and  boatman  over  its  tortuous 
and  rapid  rivers. 

Our  other  guide  was  a  full-blooded  Menoniinee  Indian, 
knowing  few  simple  words  of  English,  but  ready  in  his  own 
and  the  Ohippewa  tongue,  which  we  were  told  are  broadly 
distinctive.  Henry  on  the  contrary  was  well  posted  in  both 
of  his  parental  tongues,  as  well  as  in  English,  and  hence  was 
our  interpreter  in  the  medley  of  utterances  we  encountered. 

By  all  rules  of  expected  custom  in  such  cases,  our  Menoniinee 
should  have  had  a  high  old  Indian  name,  with  half  a  dozen 
links  to  it,  significant  of  some  ferocious  achievement.  But  we 
were  shocked,  It  was  simply  Amos  Crane  !  It  was  a  reminder 
of  Byron's  respects  to  one  of  his  literary  cotemporaries,  who 
had  trod  on  his  poetical  toes: 

"O,  AmosCottle,  Phoebus,  what  a  name, 
To  fill  the  sounding  trump  of  future  fame!  " 

Pr^Not  that  the  question  of  fame  had  ever  entered  the  noddle 
of  our  Menomiuee.  Sitting  in  mute,  quiet  position  before  the 
camp-fire,  a  champion  consumer  of  fried  pork  and  other  eat- 
ables, "fame"  would  have  had  more  charms  to  him  girdled 
with  a  tobacco  pouch.  It  was  the  indignity  to  Indian  romance, 
in  depriving  him  of  his  native  "  barbaric  yawp,"  of  a  name, 
which  we  felt  like  resenting.  The  only  way  we  could  account 
for  the  irrelevancy  was,  that  Amos,  filling  the  position  of  choir 
leader  of  the  Indian  Mission  among  his  people,  had  to  be  re- 
christened,  hence  another  wrong  perpetrated  upon  "Lolthe 
poor  Indian."  But  Amos  was  a  magnificent  vocalist,  with  a 
voice  almost  as  flexible  as  that  of  the  feathered  songsters  of 
his  own  native  wilds.  As  we  sat  in  the  boat  and  listened  to 
his  rendering  of  ''Happy  Days,"  and  "Nearer  my  God  to 
Thee,"  in  his  native  tongue,  there  was  a  charm  in  it  lingering 
long  in  memory. 


82  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

No.  III. 

From  Marquette  to  Michagamma  lake,  about  twenty  miles 
distant,  there  is  connection  by  railroad.  The  village  at  that 
lake,  as  some  of  our  readers  may  remember,  was  devastated 
by  fire  about  two  months  ago.  It  was  so  furious  as  to  drive  a 
portion  of  the  population  into  the  lake,  some  of  whom,  in 
their  efforts  to  escape  from  one  element  by  seeking  another, 
were  drowned.  Our  intention  was  to  visit  that  place,  but  this 
disaster  changed  our  direction.  Our  Secretary  of  the  Navy, 
Mr.  Childs,  had  procured  a  boat  for  us  at  the  Republic  iron 
mines,  a  few  miles  south  of  the  lake  on  the  river  running 
from  it.  We  accordingly  took  the  cars  from  Humboldt,  a 
small  settlement  about  nine  miles  from  Marquette.  From  this 
point  the  Mining  Company  has  built  a  branch  road  to  the  ore 
beds,  about  nine  miles  farther  west.  While  waiting  on  the 
platform  for  an  ore  train,  a  familiar  countenance  greeted  us, 
and  we  were  hailed  by  an  old  Poughkeepsie  acquaintance, 
Mr.  Frank  Allen,  son  of  the  late  Joseph  E.  Allen,  of  this  city. 
The  meeting  was  as  pleasant  as  it  was  unexpected.  He  left 
Poughkeepsie  a  few  years  ago,  with  a  slender  purse  but  with 
a  good  stock  of  enterprise  and  perseverance,  and  began  bis 
business  career  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder.  He  has  now  a  fine 
store  and  a  post-office  commission  at  Humboldt,  and  has  also 
just  completed  and  stocked  the  largest  store  at  Republic. 

Our  interview  was  interrupted  by  the  rumbling  of  cars, 
which  stopped  only  long  enough  to  receive  us  and  our  bag- 
gage. As  the  train  was  composed  only  of  empty  ore  cars,  we 
sprang  into  one  of  them  and  took  an  electric  battery  nine 
miles  long,  bouncing  over  thick  studded  inequality  of  surface, 
something  like  Sancho  Panza  undergoing  his  blanketing 
operation.  To  add  to  the  novelty  of  the  exercise  a  smart 
shower  began  to  fall,  and  the  red  rust  of  the  ore  adhered  to 
us  as  smoothly  as  paint  to  an  Indian,  so  thnt  we  presented  a 
very  uncivilized  spectacle  as  we  made  our  grand  entree  into 
Republic.  But  costume  has  no  regulation  standard  at  the 
mines,  nor  iron  nuggets  any  particular  beauty  of  appearance. 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  83 

A  rough  exterior  uniformly  covers  value  in  the  one  case,  and 
sometimes  among  the  hardy  sons  of  toil  on  the  other,  and  the 
absence  of  the  latest  fashions  in  external  apparel  furnishes  no 
cause  of  anxiety. 

Iron  is  king  here.  Though  we  have  no  data  at  hand  of  its 
relative  annual  value  of  yield,  compared  with  that  of  the  beds 
of  copper  and  silver  which  are  found  in  and  about  Lake 
Superior  farther  north,  we  Infer  from  what  we  casually 
learned  that  it  is  second  to  no  other  mining  interest  of  this 
remarkable  mineral  region.  Agents  are  prospecting  for  iron 
ore  on  government  lands,  and  several  new  and  promising 
mines  have  been  opened  within  a  few  months  past.  The 
limits  of  supply  would  seem  to  be  bounded  only  by  the 
availability  of  manual  labor  and  machinery  for  extracting  it, 
and  the  carrying  means  to  navigation. 

The  lumbering  industry  has  considerable  rivalry  in  com- 
mercial enterprise.  But  it  is  beginning  to  feel  the  effects  of 
comparative  exhaustion.  Forests  contiguous  to  water-courses 
have  been  almost  denuded  of  their  pine  growth,  and  we  saw 
little  on  our  route  to  meet  our  ideal  vision  in  this  respect. 
Upon  this  topic  a  writer  in  a  late  issue  of  the  Chicago  Tribune 
presents  some  facts  which  may  interest  the  reader.  He  says: 

"  The  present  and  ever  increasing  want  of  timber  demands  a 
general  awakening  on  the  subject  of  tree-growing.  New  York 
has  lost  her  maple,  walnut  and  hickory  forests.  The  great 
Wisconsin  forests  are  in  process  of  rapid  destruction.  No  less 
than  one  billion  thirty  million  feet  were  cut  in  1871.  Tens 
of  thousands  of  logs  are  annually  rafted  down  the  Missis- 
sippi to  Iowa,  where  they  are  cut  into  lumber.  Young  & 
Co.  have  a  mill  at  Clinton,  Iowa,  that  runs  two  hundred 
saws,  and  three-fourths  of  all  the  lumber  they  cut  goes  to 
Kansas  and  Nebraska.  In  a  single  year  one  hundred  and 
eighty-five  million  feet  of  Wisconsin  logs  were  cut  in 
Iowa.  Ten,  or,  at  most,  twenty  years  from  now,  not  only  the 
Wisconsin,  but  Michigan  and  Minnesota  forests  will  be  swept 
away.  Fifty  thousand  acres  of  Wisconsin  timber  are  cut 
annually  to  supply  the  Kansas  and  Nebraska  markets  alone. 


84  FOKEST   AND   LAKE. 

There  is  now  left  iu  the  whole  of  the  United  States,  un- 
touched, but  one  tract  of  fine  timber,  consisting  of  about  one- 
half  of  Washington  Territory  and  one-third  of  Oregon.  It  is 
still  a  vast  scope  of  land,  covered  by  the  magnificent  yellow 
fir,  many  trees  being  three  hundred  feet  high.  The  North- 
ern Pacific  railroad  will  open  up  this  belt,  and  when  it  is 
gone,  the  last  of  the  great  American  forests  will  have  disap- 
peared. Already  exportations  from  it  to  China  and  Japan 
have  commenced,  and  it  cannot  last  over  ten,  or  at  most 
twenty  years.  It  will  be  for  the  next  half  decade  our  ship 
building  center,  and  then  where  shall  we  go  for  our  ship- 
timber?"* 

These  are  gloomy  forebodings,  but  not  worth  lying  appre- 
hensively awake  about.  When  our  household  or  student 
lamps  were  threatened  with  an  eclipse,  on  account  of  the 
growing  scarcity  of  the  big  fish  which  supplied  them  with  oil, 
gas  came  iu  with  an  illuminating  welcome  which  in  turn  is 
waning  before  the  advent  of  electricity.  A  substitute  for  tim- 
ber may  be  more  difficult  on  many  accounts.  But  to  say  no- 
thing of  coal,  its  many  years  successor  for  heating  and  culi- 
nary uses,  it  is  already  beginning  to  become  a  "  back  number  " 
in  building  purposes,  where  security  against  fire  is  most  es- 
sential, and  iron  is  still  more  conspicuous  in  shipbuilding. 
The  worry  and  alarm  of  to-day  is  often  the  ridicule  of  the 
next  decade. 

ToCapt.  Pasco,  superintendent  of  the  iron  mine  at  Republic, 
we  are  indebted  for  many  courtesies.  He  took  us  over  the 
works  explaining  the  different  varieties  of  the  ore,  and  the  im- 
mense machinery  by  which  delivery  to  the  cars  is  accom- 
plished with  very  little  manual  labor.  The  bulk  of  ore  ex- 
tracted  is  of  the  magnetic  kind,  almost  pure,  and  sparkling 

*  Twenty  years  later,  under  date  of  Chicago,  February  21,  1893,  the 
now  Secretary  of  Agriculture  at  Washington,  J.  Sterling  Morton,  is  re- 
ported as  saying:  Despite  the  fact  that  I  should  be  jubilant  over  my 
recent  elevation,  I  am  troubled .  Every  day  that  passes  sees  the  timber 
producing  land  of  this  country  reduced  by  twenty-five  thousand  acres. 
There  are  but  forty  million  acres  of  timber  left  in  this  country,  and 
at  this  rate  of  destruction  it  will  last  but  a  generation. 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  85 

with  its  wealth.  Trains  of  fifty  or  sixty  cars  are  run  tinder  a 
towering  elevator,  pierced  with  "  shutes,"  into  whose  capaci- 
ous pockets  above  the  ore  is  dropped  by  cars  descending  a 
railway  from  the  mine,  the  loaded  cars  drawing  up  the  empty 
ones  on  a  parallel  railway,  by  a  continuous  chain.  Each  car- 
load of  ore  represents  a  value  of  $40.  The  company  is 
now  shipping  from  seven  hundred  to  nine  hundred  tons  per 
day.  About  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  are  employed  in  the 
mines  at  remunerating  wages.  There  was  marked  evidence 
of  system  and  order  throughout.  Surrounded  as  the  occupa- 
tion seems  to  be  with  exposure  to  accident,  judicious  over- 
sight has  made  such  visitations  of  rare  occurrence.  A  com- 
petent physician  and  surgeon  is  employed  by  the  company. 
He  has  an  extensive  charge,  and  does  not  have  to  earn  his  fee 
over  again  by  cost  of  mileage  in  its  collection. 

No.  IV. 

Our  trip  now  commences  "  Dowx  THE  RAPIDS."  While 
getting  ready  to  leave  Republic,  a  venerable  looking  Indian  ap- 
proached the  shore  in  a  canoe.  Its  occupants,  besides  him- 
self, were  two  red  men  and  a  squaw  with  an  infant  in  her 
arms.  There  was  a  pack  of  deer  skins  in  the  boat,  the  trophies 
of  a  recent  hunt.  The  canoe  was  just  the  craft  we  wanted, 
and  as  his  place  (for  he  was  a  chief  among  his  people)  was 
only  a  few  miles  down  the  river  and  they  could  easily  reach 
home,  we  put  Henry  into  a  negotiation  for  its  purchase. 
After  a  brief  Indian  confab,  Henry  informed  us  that  he  was 
unwilling  to  part  with  it  on  any  terms  —  it  was  a  present  to  him 
from  ' '  the  boys  "  of  his  tribe,  and  it  wouldn't  be  right  to  sell  it. 
We  increased  the  price  $5  at  different  offers,  not  taking 
much  stock  in  his  alleged  scruples,  but  every  proposition  was 
declined,  although  in  a  manner  which  seemed  to  invite  a  higher 
bid.  At  last  we  gave  Henry  an  ultimatum  at  $45.  The 
answer  was  "  make  it  $50  and  you  shall  have  it."  The  ex- 
travagant price  was  enough  to  end  the  chaffer,  and  we  parted 
from  old  "  Eagle  Eye,"  a  temporary  convert,  at  least,  to  the 
prevalent  opinion  here  that  the  Indian  is  a  nuisance. 
8 


86  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

Our  paddles  struck  welcome  music  as  we  pushed  out  into 
the  stream.  The  Michagamma  river  here  stretched  out  into 
a  spacious  bay,  upon  whose  low  banks  the  village  of  Republic 
is  built.  The  dark  bold  mountain  of  ore  rose  in  close  prox- 
imity in  a  southern  parallel  to  the  line  of  buildings,  its  surface 
offering  no  lodgment  for  seed  or  root.  For  unnumbered 
centuries  it  has  stood  unknown  to  treasure-seekers  for  its 
commercial  value.  About  two  years  ago  the  first  business 
opening  was  made  upon  it,  and  now  it  is  a  monthly  fortune 
to  its  owners. 

The  current  sent  us  swiftly  along  without  much  aid  from 
the  paddle,  and  soon  we  had  our  first  experience  in  running  a 
rapid.  For  some  thirty  or  forty  rods  the  water  was  in  mad 
commotion,  boiling  over  the  rocks.  It  did  not  look  interesting, 
and  we  felt  a  strong  desire  to  go  ashore.  Amos  stood  in  the 
stern,  and  in  commanding  tones  shouted  his  orders  to  Henry 
at  the  bow — "  chig-a-bee  !  chig-a-bee  !"  or  "  ah-punt  !  ah- 
puut"  —  as  its  different  steering  was  required.  Over  the 
rapids  we  were  whirled  in  to  the  smooth  waters  below,  Amos 
yelling  a  grand  Indian  hulabaloo  as  we  settled  into  quiet  bot- 
tom again.  For  a  distance  of  some  two  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  rapids  frequently  intervene  and  are  lively  /est  to  boat- 
ing. In  charge  of  skillful  and  experienced  guides,  as  we  had, 
the  motion  soons  becomes  a  pleasant  sensation.  Only  once 
did  the  experience  have  an  unpleasant  result.  We  had  entered 
upon  a  particularly  rough  and  intricate  rapid,  and  as  the 
boat  was  lurching  upon  a  submerged  rock,  Henry  thrust  his 
paddle  between  it  and  the  boat,  and  the  paddle  snapped  in 
twain  like  a  pipe-stem,  dipping  a  small  cataract,  completely 
sousing  the  passengers  in  the  first-class  cabin.  He  caught  up 
a  spare  paddle  in  time  to  save  us  from  further  unpleasantness, 
and  we  put  for  the  first  convenient  camping  ground. 

The  night  had  a  strong  touch  of  December,  and  we  have  a 
very  distinct  recollection  of  a  couple  of  very  blue  and  moody 
adventurers,  disgusted  with  all  sublunary  affairs,  standing  be- 
fore a  camp-fire,  and  turning  at  intervals  around,  in  a  drying 
and  shivering  process.  Henry  also  took  the  little  episode  to 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  87 

heart,  and  denounced  the  treacherous  paddle.  Morning,  how- 
ever, brought  all  things  bright.  With  the  new  day  we  passed 
into  a  new  atmosphere,  and  the  evening  conjurations  of  ill, 
and  its  sources  of  disquiet,  had  taken  wing  with  congenial 
darkness. 

The  feathered  game,  for  which  this  region  is  noted,  soon  at- 
tracted our  attention.  Wild  pigeons  liitted  over  us  in  great 
numbers,  seeking  their  feed  from  the  berry  bushes  which 
were  in  full  bearing.  Partridges  were  also  around  us  in 
abundance.  Amos,  whose  eye  was  as  keen  and  piercing  as  a 
hawk's,  allowed  nothing  in  the  shape  of  game  to  escape  his 
attention.  The  shores  of  the  river  furnished  hatching  ground 
and  feed  for  wild  ducks.  Fishing  was  also  lively  sport.  At 
favorable  places,  especially  near  the  inlet  of  a  cold  brook,  we 
found  trout  in  abundance.  Black  bass  abound,  and  can  be 
captured  in  any  desirable  quantity.  There  was  no  necessity 
for  hunger  on  the  way. 

No.  V. 

Soon  after  leaving  our  night's  camping  ground,  on  the  third 
morning  of  the  downward  run,  we  espied  a  deer,  the  first  we 
had  seen  on  the  route.  He  was  feeding  at  the  point  of  a 
narrow  set  off  from  the  main  channel,  about  a  hundred  yards 
distant.  The  current  carried  us  swiftly  past  the  opening,  and 
the  recognition  was  apparently  mutual,  for  as  we  turned  back 
to  the  point  the  buck  was  also  intently  watching  our  move- 
ments. Slee  had  his  rifle  in  readiness,  and  there  was  a 
moment  of  expectation  as  the  boat  was  being  brought  around 
to  clear  the  intervening  bushes.  "We  dreamed  of  all  things 
fair," — especially  of  a  fair,  juicy  venison  steak.  But  just 
as  the  position  was  gained  for  a  fair  shot,  the  buck  flung  up 
his  caudal  appendage  defiantly,  and  we  were  left  in  the  lurch. 
"  Death  had  not  marked  him  for  his  own  "  —  or  ours  either. 
Such  a  turn  of  events  always  leaves  one  of  the  interested 
parties  in  an  awkward  position  ;  but  veterans  in  many  a 
similar  trial  are  prepared  to  take  it  gracefully.  Of  all  the 


88  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

"  back  tracks"  in  life,  strewed  with  blighted  hopes,  few  tax 
more  heavily  the  philosophy  of  cheerful  resignation. 

During  the  remainder  of  our  excursion  down  the  Micha- 
gamma,  which  occupied  about  a  week,  no  deer  came  in  sight. 
This  beautiful  animal,  like  the  wild  fowl  of  the  northern 
waters,  has  also  its  migrating  season,  when  it  travels  in  herds 
hundreds  of  miles  south  to  avoid  the  severity  of  winter.  Its 
course  is  usually  along  the  banks  of  rivers,  and  Indian  and  other 
hunters  select  favorable  points  for  encampment,  and  slaugh- 
ter them  by  the  hundreds.  The  racks  or  scaffolding,  for  dry- 
ing and  curing  the  venison,  were  visible  in  many  places  along 
the  route.  The  time  of  this  exodus  is  generally  the  latter 
part  of  August  and  through  September.  We  were  about  two 
weeks  in  advance  of  this  season.  A  scattered  few  remain 
through  the  year  in  the  forests  contiguous  to  the  Menominee 
river  and  its  tributaries,  and  from  these  the  Indians  manage 
to  get  their  supplies  for  food  and  other  domestic  uses  through 
the  summer  as  well  as  winter.  j  < 

Our  last  camp  on  the  Michigamrna  was  at  one  side  of  a 
beautiful  fall,  a  sheet  of  foaming  water  about  thirty  feet  over 
a  rocky  ledge  and  spanned  by  a  charming  rainbow.  *It  was  ad- 
mirably picturesque  in  its  thick  setting  of  evergreens.  Trout 
find  here  congenial  haunts  in  the  deep  and  agitated  waters. 
Below  the  falls  the  river  spread  out  in  a  broad  basin,  and  a 
few  rods  farther  down  it  entered  at  right  angles  as  a  tributary 
of  the  Menominee  river. 

Outstretched  on  our  evergreen  mattress,  with  the  unceasing 
voice  of  many  waters  in  their  wild  play,  lit  by  an  unclouded 
moon,  there  was  too  much  of  the  suggestive  history  of  its  sur- 
rounding changes  in  the  lapse  of  centuries,  for  sleep  to  be- 
come a  ready  visitor.  To  the  lover  of  wilderness  scenery  we 
know  of  none  more  charming  than  is  presented  in  and  about 
the  numerous  falls  of  the  Michigamma  and  Menominee  rivers, 
of  which  there  are  six  worthy  of  special  note  within  two  or 
three  days'  boating;  one  at  the  junction  of  the  two  rivers  just 
named,  Big  Poquinessey,  Little  Poquinessey,  the  Twin  Falls 
(not  far  apart,  and  so  called  from  their  resemblance  to  each 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  89 

other)  and  one  other,  the  gem  of  the  series,  whose  distinctive 
name  we  have  forgotten.  They  vary  in  descent  from  twenty 
to  forty  feet,  carrying  a  dense  volume  of  water  which  project- 
ing rocks  churn  into  whiteness  over  the  entire  surface,  and 
presenting  so  many  points  of  attraction  that  the  vision  tires 
with  the  overstrain. 

The  carries  through  the  forests  to  the  foot  of  these  falls 
vary  from  a  quarter  to  two  and  a  half  miles;  and  as  our  camp 
equipments  and  boat  were  so  bulky  as  to  make  a  return  trip 
necessary,  the  progress  on  the  long  portages  were  necessarily 
slow.  The  end  of  the  first  long  carry  brought  us  to  the  foot 
of  one  of  the  falls  we  have  mentioned,  and  while  our  guides 
were  after  the  second  load,  we  pushed  out  in  the  boat  to  the 
entrance  of  a  spring  brook.  Although  the  midday  sun  was 
lighting  the  spot,  we  took  twenty-three  trout,  varying  from  a 
quarter  to  three-quarters  of  a  pound,  in  less  than  an  hour. 
Slee's  tackling  parted  as  he  was  bringing  in  an  old  settler, 
almost  in  reach  of  an  arm  outstretched  to  take  it  in  out  of  the 
wet. 

We  were  getting  anxious  to  capture  a  deer,  and  thus  furnish 
our  commissary  department  with  a  change.  Our  guides  in- 
formed us  that  about  half  a  mile  west  there  were  three  small 
lakes  connected  by  narrow  channels,  which  was  a  favorite 
hunting  ground  of  the  Indians.  We  carried  across  to  this 
place  and  stayed  two  nights,  the  only  exception  to  the  daily 
folding  of  tent  and  resuming  our  journey.  We  saw  no  signs 
of  deer,  but  black  bass  and  pickerel  fishing  was  lively. 

Passing  a  beautiful  island  which  divided  the  Menominee 
river  midway,  Henry  gave  us  an  Indian  legend  of  long  ago, 
which  is  still  religiously  held  among  the  Menominees.  An  In- 
dian maiden  was  suffering  from  some  indisposition  for  which 
the  tradition  of  that  people  required  her  temporary  seclusion. 
She  was,  therefore,  left  alone  in  a  hut  on  an  island,  some  dis- 
tance from  the  rest  of  her  tribe.  But  one  morning  she  was 
sought,  and  could  not  be  found.  Months  passed  without  any 
sign  of  the  missing  maiden.  At  length  a  hunting  party,  re- 
turning late  at  night,  while  passing  this  island  saw  the  lost 


90  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

maiden  in  vivid  reality,  standing  upon  the  bank.  They  ad- 
dressed her,  but  received  no  answer.  They  landed,  but  the 
vision  receded,  and  as  they  advanced  it  disappeared.  The 
verity  of  the  legend  is  unquestioned  among  her  people,  who 
believe  that  the  mute  maiden  vouchsafes  at  times  her  spirit- 
presence  to  those  who  are  satisfied  with  the  opportunity  of 
seeing  her  at  a  respectful  distance  and  with  sealed  lips. 
;,-;  We  also  learned  from  the  same  authority  that  the  Chip- 
pewas  and  Menominees  have  their  spirit-mediums,  and  Henry 
dilated  at  length  his  personal  witness  of  a  scene  which  they 
call  "  The  Shaking  of  the  Tent."  Certain  old  men  among 
them,  respected  for  their  wisdom,  are  the  chosen  receptacles 
of  this  ''influence."  According  to  his  account,  one  of  these 
mediums,  known  by  an  appellation  which  was  too  intricate 
for  a  short  memory  to  retain,  enters  alone  a  tent,  the  stout 
center  pole  of  which  is  fastened  deep  in  the  ground,  and 
throwing  himself  prostrate,  commences  a  wild  chant  or  incan- 
tation. Soon  the  pole  of  the  tent  begins  to  vibrate,  at  first 
slowly,  but  increasing  in  extent  and  rapidity  of  motion  with  an 
agitation  which  no  mortal  arms  could  produce.  Several  voices 
were  also  heard  in  the  Indian  chant.  As  each  additional  voice  • 
joined  in,  a  loud  crash  was  heard,  indicating  the  arrival  of  a 
reinforcement.  The  chief  spirit  spokesman  seemed  to  be  an 
old  chief,  and  when  asked  as  to  the  nature  of  his  revelations, 
Henry  replied,  that  'it  was  advice  how  to  live  a  good  life. 
Henry  said  he  had  often  heard  of  these  demonstrations  among 
the  Indians,  but  was  utterly  sceptical  until  he  was  a  witness 
of  what  he  had  related.  He  spoiled  the  solemnity  of  his  nar- 
rative, however,  by  adding,  "that  the  scene  affected  him  so 
powerfully  that  he  roared  with  laughter."  We  confess  to 
have  sympathized  with  him  at  the  fun  of  the  circus.  But 
if  mortal  vision  is  to  be  purged  of  its  obstructions,  so  as  to 
inlet  this  new  perception  of  spirit  possibilities,  we  should 
prefer  to  take  it  as  an  Indian  dose  rather  than  through  any 
other  agency. 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  91 

No.  VI. 

The  first  Indian  settlement  we  reached  on  the  Menominee 
is  at  a  place  called  "  Bad  Water,"  not  from  any  peculiarity  in 
its  taste,  but  from  its  general  roughness.  The  Indian  name  is 
We-bo-junno,  or  Narrowing  of  the  Rapids.  There  were  a  few 
log  shanties  and  bark  wigwams.  We  made  a  morning  visit, 
and  as  our  guides  were  acquainted  with  them,  and  business 
didn't  seem  to  be  driving  on  their  part,  we  handed  around 
cigars  and  had  a  chatty  smoke,  enjoying  the  Indian  talk,  if 
we  didn't  understand  it.  The  squaws  and  pappooses  all  had  a 
squalid,  untidy  appearance,  and  their  garments  were  an  odd 
compromise  between  savage  and  civilized  styles.  We  looked 
in  vain  for  the  romantic  "  Leather-stocking"  picture  our  fancy 
had  painted.  There  was  not  enough  of  Indian  scare  about 
them  to  make  the  situation  iateresting.  The  fact  occurred  to 
us  that  when  we  were  informed  at  Marquette  that  we  should 
.find  nobody  but  Indians  on  the  route,  we  furtively  made 
inquiry  whether  white  visitors  straying  into  their  territory 
were  likely  to  find  hospitality  and  kindly  reception.  l  We  felt 
the  ridiculous  nature  of  the  apprehension  involved  in  that 
inquiry  as  we  sat  among  these  degenerate  aborigines.  They 
are  evidence,  at  least  in  this  region,  that  the  traditional  red 
men  of  old  New  England  times  have  disappeared  from  forest, 
lake  and  river.  Among  the  tribes  living  more  remote  from 
the  pale  faces,  and  possessing  pride  and  strength  enough  to 
keep  up  their  race  individuality,  doubtless  there  is  more  of  the 
old  Indian  stamina  left. 

We  had  another  object,  beside  the  exchange  of  visiting 
courtesies,  in  making  this  call.  We  had  seen  from  the  river 
a  new  canoe,  and  concluded  to  make  another  effort  for  a  trade. 
When  the  Indian  talk  with  our  guides  had  begun  to  slacken, 
probably  from  exhaustion  of  all  the  gossip  about  the  outer 
world,  we  told  Henry  to  sound  the  "big  Indian,"  who,  we 
learned,  was  the  maker  and  owner  of  it.  The  canoe  was  pro- 
nounced by  our  guide  to  be  composed  of  a  perfect  piece  of 
bark  of  the  best  birch,  and  as  good  a  craft  of  the  kind  as  we 


92  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

could  find  on  the  river.  But  the  old  man  was  not  in  selling 
mood,  especially  as  we  proposed  to  throw  in  our  boat  as  part  of 
the  consideration.  At  this  point  of  the  trade  a  third  party  ap- 
peared. An  old  squaw  came  out  of  a  wigwam,  leaning  upon 
a  long  stick,  with  a  wrinkled  countenance  and  parchment 
skin,  as  if  marked  by  a  century,  and  long  black  hair  loosely 
flowing  —  a  very  suggestive  "  Meg  Merriles."  She  learned 
from  Henry  the  nature  of  the  discussion.  And  then  com- 
menced an  animated  talk  with  the  old  Indian,  whose  squaw 
she  was.  We  should  have  mentioned  that  he  wore  a  large  black 
patch,  covering  almost  his  entire  nose,  and  tied  around  the  back 
of  his  head.  Henry  had  learned  the  secret  of  this  fixture,  and 
informed  us  that  the  squaw  had  bit  off  the  lower  portion  of 
that  facial  ornament,  in  a  recent  domestic  unpleasantness. 
She  evidently  was  the  boss  diplomat  and  favored  our  proposi- 
tion. It  did  not  take  her  long  to  bring  the  chief  to  terms. 
Curiosity  to  learn  her  age,  led  me  to  ask  the  information 
through  our  interpreter.  I  saw  from  her  countenance  that 
she  parried  the  question,  with  the  usual  spirit]of  her  sex  when 
a  meddling  masculine  asks  it.  She  would  have  been  a  lively 
customer  for  a  census-taker.  After  some  bantering  between 
them,  she  said  she  did  not  know  how  old  she  was,  nor  where 
she  was  born,  curtly  adding,  that  I  needn't  be  so  inquisitive 
about  it,  as  her  hair  wasn't  as  gray  as  mine  !  My  curiosity 
suddenly  abated. 

The  canoe  bargain  having  been  settled,  the  finishing  pro- 
cess on  the  boat  ("  pitching  the  seams,"  by  applying  a  compo- 
sition of  melted  spruce  gum  and  grease  to  the  seams  where  the 
bark  is  cut  to  shape  it,  and  is  then  sewed  together  by  a  very 
strong  fibrous  root)  was  proceeded  with.  This  work  uniformly 
devolves  upon  the  squaws,  and  three  of  them  took  it  in  hand, 
superintended  by  the  old  squaw.  The  Indians  squatted 
around  smoking  their  pipes,  and  we  found  ourselves  in  a 
novel  circle,  where  the  dignity  of  "  the  lords  of  creation  " 
was  asserted  in  the  most  primitive,  aboriginal  style.  The  en- 
tire population  of  "Bad  Water"  gathered  at  the  river  side, 
where  the  canoe  was  launched.  As  we  were  ready  to  pro- 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  93 

ceed  on  our  journey,  I  jocosely  suggested  to  Henry  to  invite 
the  old  squaw  to  accompany  us.  To  our  dismay  she  assented, 
and  started  for  the  canoe.  A  broad  grin  overspread  the  coun- 
tenance of  her  wedded  companion,  indicating  a  full  assent  on 
his  part,  but  we  made  an  ungallant  and  hasty  retreat  from  the 
dilemma,  leaving  a  slighted  squaw  shaking  her  fist  at  us. 

Proceeding  down  the  river  a  few  miles,  we  camped  at  a 
bluff,  adjoining  one  of  the  falls  to  which  allusion  has  already 
been  made.  While  getting  things  in  readiness  for  the  night, 
Amos  caught  sight  of  a  deer  feeding  in  the  water,  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  below  us.  Supper  was  soon  despatched, 
and  taking  Amos  to  manage  the  canoe,  Slee  went  in  search  of 
the  animal,  while  Henry  remained  with  me  by  the  camp-fire, 
calculating  the  chances.  They  had  been  absent  but  a  short 
time  when  we  heard  the  report  of  a  gun,  and  not  long  after  a 
second  discharge.  We  watched  with  confidence  that  the 
cruise  was  successful,  and  in  about  an  hour  the  canoe  was  at 
the  camp  with  a  fine  large  doe.  The  second  shot  was  made 
at  a  large  buck,  standing  out  some  distance  in  the  stream,  but 
the  gathering  darkness  made  the  mark  uncertain,  and  he 
escaped.  In  the  morning  our  guides  rose  early  to  dress  the 
deer,  and  the  sun  was  not  yet  in  sight,  when  Henry  called 
me  up,  saying  there  were  three  deer  on  the  beach  just  below 
the  camp.  Going  to  the  edge  of  the  bluff,  we  beheld  as  pretty 
a  scene  as  any  hunter  could  wish.  On  the  broad,  sandy  mar- 
gin of  the  basin  below  the  falls,  about  twenty  rods  from  us,  a 
buck,  doe  and  fawn  were  frolicking  in  high  glee.  We  watched 
their  play  for  some  time,  behind  our  bushy  screen.  A  sug- 
gestion from  Henry  to  shoot  was  valiantly  resisted,  as  our 
supply  of  venison  was  now  superabundant.  A  clap  of  the 
hands  sent  them  bouncing  into  the  sheltering  forest,  to  be- 
come the  prey  of  some  more  needy  hunters  before  a  returning 
summer.  We  had  evidently  reached  a  favorite  feeding 
ground  for  deer,  for  between  our  arrival  at  evening  of  that 
day  and  ten  o'clock  next  morning,  on  our  way  down,  we 
counted  eleven,  and  were  fully  supplied  for  the  remainder  of 
our  sojourn  in  the  woods. 


94  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 


One  kind  of  fish  frequently  seen  in  the  Meuominee  river  we 
have  not  yet  mentioned.  It  was  the  last  place  where  we 
should  expect  to  find  sturgeon,  yet  they  are  here  in  great 
numbers,  swimming  lazily  up  stream  in  search  of  spawning 
ground.  All  we  saw  were  much  smaller  than  those  which 
inhabit  the  Hudson  river,  not  exceeding  four  feet  in  length. 
Sturgeon  river,  which  runs  into  the  Menominee  some  seventy - 
five  miles  south  of  its  source,  receives  its  name  from  this  fish, 
and  some  distance  up  this  tributary  is  Sturgeon  falls,  where 
natural  obstructions  bound  their  further  ascent. 

At  these  falls  a  lumber  company  have  a  large  farm,  from 
which  it  gets  the  supplies  for  the  laborers  and  stock  employed 
in  winter  lumbering. 

At  White  Rapids  we  reached  another  Indian  settlement,  the 
Indian  name  We-bo-baco,  derived  from  the  falling  of  the  waters 
over  rocks  of  a  light  color,  resembling  marble.  Some  atten- 
tion is  here  paid  by  the  Indians  to  cultivation,  and  small 
patches  of  corn  and  potatoes  were  in  thrifty  condition.  We 
paddled  up  to  a  log  shanty  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  where  an 
old  Indian  was  seated,  smoking  his  pipe.  He  was  an  uncle  of 
Amos,  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  six  years.  The  interview 
was  formal  and  quiet,  their  short  utterances  being  broken  by 
repeated  whiffs  of  smoke.  One  after  another  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  family  joined  the  circle  as  listeners,  after  a  hand- 
shake of  recognition.  In  the  mean  time  we  sat  in  the  canoe 
in  the  full  pour  of  a  melting  midday  sun,  wishing  that  the 
stream  of  kindred  affection  might  rush  into  a  like  broiling  flood 
and  exhaust  itself.  But  all  things  have  an  end,  even  an 
aboriginal  reunion  of  long  scattered  members.  The  old  man 
brought  out  as  a  present  a  pair  of  venerable  antlers,  to  which 
was  added  about  a  peck  of  cucumbers,  raised  in  his  garden. 
We  lightened  our  cargo  by  leaving  our  supplies  of  venison, 
flour,  pork  and  other  articles,  which  the  nearness  to  the  end 
of  our  river  run  made  no  longer  necessary. 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  95 

Our  tent  was  pitched  that  night,  for  the  last  of  the  trip,  on 
the  banks  of  these  pleasant  waters.  The  morning  opened  in 
rare  beauty,  and  as  we  floated  with  easy  speed  down  the  cur- 
rent, requiring  but  little  effort  of  the  paddle,  the  situation  af- 
forded an  agreeable  sensation  of  change  with  rest.  Birds, 
some  of  beautiful  plumage,  were  at  their  morning  vocation, 
charming  the  eye  and  tuneful  to  the  ear.  Amos  was  in  most 
exuberant  mood,  glowing  over  with  his  sacred  mission  songs, 
in  which  lie  was  joined  by  Henry,  who  strove  to  make  up  in 
his  appreciation  of  melody  what  he  lacked  in  devotional  senti- 
ment. 

As  we  have  already  remarked,  the  Menominee  river  is  the 
border  line  between  Michigan  and  Wisconsin,  once  the  new 
territory  of  the  "  far  West,"  but  now  furnishing  their  own  in- 
crease of  population  to  the  frontier  settlements.  They  are  both 
still  rich  in  their  mineral,  and  comparatively  so  in  their  forest, 
wealth,  and  contribute  largely  in  these  staples  to  the  supply 
of  middle  and  eastern  markets.  As  the  lumber  needed  for 
commercial  demand  ceases  to  furnish  remunerative  occupation, 
business  enterprise  will  fall  back  upon  the  apparently  inex- 
haustible deposits  of  the  different  ores,  which  are  as  yet  com- 
paratively untouched  by  mining  implements.  While  there 
are  so  many  more  inviting  fields  in  the  West  for  the  hand  of 
agriculture,  offering  a  greater  yield  to  less  toil,  it  must  be 
years  before  these  river  banks  give  evidence  of  prosperous 
farmers'  homes.  Here  and  there,  as  we  progressed  toward 
the  mouth  of  the  river,  were  seen  the  humble  abodes  of  set- 
tlers, who  had  opened  a  spot  in  the  wilderness  for  their  house- 
hold goods,  where,  if  their  lives  are  not  filled  with  the  rounded 
measure  of  a  more  abundant  social  life,  at  least  have  their 
compensation  in  a  more  robust  existence  and  greatly  diminished 
sources  of  social  disquiet,  meeting  Dr.  Goldsmith's  idea. 
"If  few  their  joys,  their  wants  are  also  few."  And  I  was 
deeply  interested  in  the  explanation  of  the  situation,  between 
a  couple  among  whom  we  happened  to  find  ourselves.  The 
husband,  who  was  originally  from  Maine,  had  not  overcome 
his  longing  to  go  back  to  his  old  social  life,  and  plead  as  a 


96  FOREST  AXD  LAKE. 

reason  for  it,  that  their  children,  who  were  numerous  around 
them,  would  thus  have  a  better  opportunity  for  education, 
and  to  become  somebody.  But  the  wife  had  no  sympathy  for 
such  a  change.  She  said  they  got  along  comfortably,  raised 
all  they  needed  and  had  a  surplus  to  carry  out  to  market, 
and  the  children  were  out  of  the  reach  of  temptation.  Who 
will  say  that  her  philosophy  was  not  the  correct  one  in  view 
of  the  fact  which  we  subsequently  learned,  that  thirst  for 
alcohol  had  formerly  been  her  husband's  failing,  and  that 
here,  in  the  solitude  of  Nature,  that  terrible  destroyer  of 
home  and  its  happiness  found  no  congenial  lodgment?  The 
returning  ways  to  the  dram  shop  were  more  frightful  to  her 
than  the  dreariness  of  her  wilderness  abode,  or  the  deprivation 
of  community  comforts  and  advantages.  The  highest  forms 
of  moral  heroism  and  the  noblest  examples  of  self-sacrifice 
have  many  a  field  of  daily  exercise,  unnoted  save  by  the  All 
Seeing  Eye. 

Besides  these  occasional  little  clearances,  whose  extent 
could  almost  be  taken  in  by  a  sweep  of  the  eye,  we  passed 
two  farms  on  a  large  scale,  one  of  them  stretching  along  the 
bank  of  the  river  three  or  four  hundred  acres  in  extent,  with 
large  and  comfortable  looking  buildings.  The  crops  on  it 
were  luxuriant,  especially  the  oats,  which  in  stalk  and  head- 
ing I  have  rarely  seen  equaled.  We  were  obliged  to  cross  a 
portion  of  it  to  carry  boat  and  baggage  round  a  rocky  shoal 
in  the  river.  A  large  turnip  field,  well  fruited,  as  Col. 
Sellers  might  say,  was  trodden  thickly  with  the  fresh  tracks 
of  feeding  deer,  which  had  found  the  presence  of  civilized 
life  attractive  at  least  to  one  sense. 

The  stretch  of  wilderness  and  water,  through  which  our 
excursion  of  about  four  hundred  miles  had  led  us,  has  unques- 
tionably superior  attractions  for  the  gun  and  rod  over  the 
North  Woods  of  our  own  State;  yet  it  is  less  trod  by  the  feet 
of  hunter  and  angler.  We  met  only  with  a  solitary  couple 
on  our  long  route,  and  they  were  going  only  a  short  distance. 
But  in  the  feature  of  scenery  it  is  out  of  sight  in  the  com- 
parison. It  has  nothing  of  the  grandeur  of  mountain  ranges, 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  97 

or  the  frequent  relief  of  bubbling  icy  springs,  which  at  almost 
every  depression  in  the  earth's  surface  mark  the  Adirondack 
regions,  and  which  border  by  the  one  and  feed  with  the  other, 
its  beautiful  and  uuequaled  lakes.  In  these  essentials  of 
perfection  to  wilderness  scenery  it  is  tame  and  deficient. 

No.  VIII. 

As  we  approached  within  a  few  miles  of  the  outlet  of  the 
river,  we  were  struck  by  the  continuous  stretch  of  bare  and 
blackened  trunks  of  trees,  extending  for  miles  on  both  sides 
of  the  track  of  the  great  Peshtigo  fire  two  years  ago.  One 
hastily  constructed  tenement,  built  since  the  disaster,  had  its 
family  reminder  of  the  fire,  as  we  learned  soon  after.  About 
three  miles  above  Menominee  city  we  found  the  river  closely 
blocked  with  logs,  which  compelled  us  to  take  our  canoe 
and  baggage  ashore  and  find  a  team  conveyance.  Leaving 
our  guides,  I  started  with  Slee  to  foot  it  to  the  city  to  pro- 
cure aid.  We  had  not  proceeded  far  when  we  were  overtaken 
by  a  man  and  his  wife  in  a  small  one-horse  wagon,  loaded  for 
market.  He  insisted  that  there  was  room  enough  for  us,  and 
kindly  assured  us  that  if  his  wagon  had  been  a  little  larger 
he  would  have  taken  in  boat  and  baggage  also.  Getting  into 
conversation,  we  learned  that  his  name  was  Joseph  Begieu, 
and  he  informed  us  that  he  lived  in  the  house  we  have  just 
referred  to,  and  that  on  the  morning  of  the  fire  he  started 
early  with  his  two  little  boys  and  a  daughter  to  go  to  Me- 
nominee city.  On  his  return  he  had  got  within  a  mile  of 
the  river  when  the  air  became  filled  with  smoke,  and  he 
heard  the  roaring  of  the  approaching  fire  He  hurried  his 
horse,  but  the  flames  were  soon  sweeping  all  around  him,  and 
he  was  obliged  to  abandon  his  wagon  and  pick  his  way  along 
in  less  exposed  places.  The  dense  smoke  was  suffocating, 
and  the  rush  of  flames  so  near  that  their  clothes  at  times 
caught  fire.  He  encouraged  his  children  in  efforts  to  reach 
the  river,  and  when  the  heat  and  smoke  were  at  times  so  in- 
tense that  they  felt  like  giving  up  to  the  situation,  he  dug 
holes  in  the  sand  with  his  hands,  and  told  them  to  lie  down 


98  FOREST  AND  LAKE. 

and  place  their  mouths  over  the  opening.  As  the  rush  of  the 
hot  current  changed  to  another  point  they  rose  and  struggled 
on  again.  In  this  condition,  scorched  and  nearly  strangled, 
they  finally  reached  the  river  and  plunged  into  the  protecting 
waters.  The  fire  was  burning  fiercely  in  the  direction  of  his 
home,  and  he  expected  to  find  his  wife  and  remaining  children 
victims  to  it. 

His  wife  then  told  her  thrilling  story.  She  was  alone  with 
two  little  children,  one  a  sick  bahy.  She  was  startled  by  the 
roar  of  the  fire,  and  in  her  anxiety  for  her  helpless  charge  be- 
came almost  paralyzed.  Her  hope  was  that  the  fire  might 
pass  to  one  side,  and  she  watched  in  agony  of  apprehension 
as  it  reached  out  in  every  direction.  Fortunately  she  was  not 
far  from  the  river,  and  rousing  herself  to  the  necessity  of  the 
situation,  she  caught  up  her  sick  child  and  leading  the  other, 
they  also  found  refuge  in  the  water,  where  not  long  after  she 
was  joined  by  her  husband  and  children  who  had  come  up  the 
river  in  a  boat.  In  the  overwhelming  joy  of  such  a  deliverance 
and  reunion,  it  concerned  them  lightly  at  the  time,  that  all 
their  worldly  effects  were  in  smoking  ruins.  Truth  is  indeed 
often  stranger  than  fiction.  It  seems  like  a  wild,  wonderful 
story,  but  I  have  related  their  account  of  it,  and  had  no  reason 
to  question  their  veracity. 

At  Menominee  we  found  comfortable  quarters  at  the  public 
house  of  Bush  Brothers.  Mr.  Bush  despatched  a  team  for 
our  canoe  and  effects,  and  the  snug  little  craft  was  put  in  the 
hands  of  the  express  company  for  home  transportation. 

Menominee  is  a  smart  growing  little  sawdust  city.  It 
abounds  in  saw-mills,  and  even  the  streets  are  paved  with 
sawdust.  On  the  Wisconsin  side  of  the  river,  directly  op- 
posite, extending  backward  from  Green  Bay,  is  Marionette, 
a  thrifty  town  of  about  the  same  size. 

A  number  of  Indians  get  some  sort  of  a  livelihood  here,  just 
at  this  season,  by  picking  berries  for  market.  We  saw  a 
company  of  them  riding  on  their  small  ponies,  and  dressed  in 
tuU  Indian  costume,  more  like  the  genuine  article  than  any 
we  had  seen.  One  of  them,  who  dropped  into  the  hotel  for  a 


FOREST  AND  LAKE.  99 

few  moments,  was  a  study  for  an  artist.  He  had  leggins  and 
moccasins,  and  a  loose  outer  garment  of  dressed  deerskin. 
With  the  exception  of  his  headgear  this  completed  his  cos- 
tume. He  was  over  six  feet  in  height,  and  carried  a  remark- 
ably long  rifle.  As  he  stepped  off  in  long  strides,  trailing  his 
rifle,  he  was  more  like  a  dusky  Micawber,  content  with  his 
situation,  and  ready  for  whatever  might  turn  up,  than  a 
Logan  mourning  the  departure  of  his  kindred  and  the  faded 
glories  of  his  race. 

We  are  sorry  in  closing  our  veritable  narrative  to  be  com- 
pelled to  add,  that  the  high  appreciation  we  had  held  of  the 
steadiness  of  Amos  against  bibulous  temptation  was  doomed 
to  a  temporary  eclipse.  His  red-skin  brethren  at  the  end  of 
the  route  seduced  him  into  a  spiritual  pow-wow,  and  Amos 
came  out  of  it  "  tighter  than  a  brick."  A  contemporaneous 
writer  recently  summed  up  the  general  failing  of  the  Indian 
in  this  wise  : 

"Historians  the  wide  world  over  will  be  shocked  to  learn, 
that  the  Chabbaquidule  tribe  of  Indians  are  extinct,  the  last 
representative  thereof  having  slept  the  sleep  of  death  at 
Martha's  Vineyard  last  week.  His  virtuous  memory  is  em- 
balmed by  a  local  chronicle  in  the  statement,  that  he  was  a 
professor  of  religion,  a  regular  attendant  upon  camp  meeting 
services,  and  an  inveterate  drunkard." 

From  our  knowledge  of  the  entire  abstinence  of  Amos  from 
any  thing  intoxicating  while  in  our  employ,  and  from  the 
testimony  of  others,  we  had  reason  to  believe  that  this  was  a 
very  rare  occurrence  in  his  case.  He  came  out  of  his  debauch 
penitent  and  poorer.  We  had  purchased  for  our  guides  their 
railroad  tickets  homeward,  in  addition  to  their  $3  a  day  each 
from  the  time  of  leaving  Marquette.  We  parted  from  them 
with  kindly  interest,  appreciating  their  skill  and  faithfulness, 
and  turned  in  a  different  direction  homeward. 

And  so  winds  up  our  remembrances  of  adventure  and  sight- 
seeing DOWN  THE  RAPIDS  of  the  Michagamma  and  Menorni- 
nee  rivers. 


BIBLE   LESSONS. 


Father  Forgive  Them.     LUKE,  xxni,  34. 

With  meek  submission  He  endured  the  base 

Indignities  of  His  unfeeling  foes; 
Though  doomed  each  moment  to  some  new  disgrace, 

No  malediction  from  His  breast  arose  — 
No  withering  curse  upon  the  heads  of  those, 

Who  were  pursuing  with  vindictive  scorn 
Their  persecution,  even  to  life's  close; 

With  lofty  resignation  all  was  borne, 
And  placid,  fervent  as  a  mother's  prayers, 

When  for  her  offspring  heavenly  gifts  they  sue, 
His  dying  voice  a  message  upward  bears  — 

"  Forgive  them  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

On  heathen  pages  we  shall  search  in  vain 

For  aught  that  gives  a  sentiment  like  this  — 
Forgiveness  —  love  —  triumphing  over  pain, 

The  authors  of  His  sufferings  to  bless  — 
Sweet  mercy  even  in  the  hour  of  death; 

Its  spirit  is  divine  —  it  breathes  of  heaven  — 
Tis  the  peculiar  essence  of  that  faith 

To  which  His  life  a  sacrifice  was  given. 
He  who  will  bring  unto  this  noble  theme 

A  heart  inquiring  for  the  heavenly  road, 
Must  with  the  Roman  officer  exclaim  — 

Convinced —  "  This  truly  was  the  Son  of  God." 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


BIBLE  LESSONS.  101 

The  Cedars  of  Lebanon. 

"The  books,  prophetic,  poetic  and  historical,  of  the  Old  Testament 
abound  in  references  to  Lebanon,  which  supplied  the  timber  for  Solo- 
mon's magnificent  temple  and  palaces.  .  .  .  The  famous  B'Sherrah 
grove  is  three-quarters  of  a  mile  in  circumference,  and  contains  about 
four  hundred  trees.  Perhaps  a  dozen  of  these  are  very  old;  the  largest, 
sixty-three  feet  In  girth,  is  thought  to  have  attained  the  age  of  two 
thousand  years."—  Encyclopedia. 

Majestic  inonarchs  of  the  forest  kind, 

Thy  regal  crests  for  ages  tbou  bast  reared, 
In  bold  defiance  to  tbe  mountain  wind; 

Thy  realm-o'ershadowing  branches,  still  unseared 
By  the  steru  ravager  of  earthly  things, 

And  mocking  the  decay  widespread  around, 
As  when  o'er  Israel  reigned  her  native  kings, 

Yet  to  the  whisperings  of  the  breeze  resound. 

The  lawless  Arab  deems  thou  art  divine, 

And  climbs  the  rocky  heights  of  Lebanon, 
To  offer  to  thee  on  thy  mountain  shrine 

The  homage  which  belongs  to  God  alone. 
Thy  dateless  birth  uplifts  the  soul  with  awe, 

And  stirs  those  deep  emotions  of  the  heart, 
Which  nearer  to  their  God  His  creatures  draw, 

And  to  their  minds  a  holy  glow  impart. 

From  off  the  heritage  o'erlooked  by  thee, 

Successive  generations  have  been  swept  — 
Contending  armies,  with  a  sanguine  sea, 

The  plains  outspreading  far  below  have  steeped, 
Since  first  thy  forms  into  existence  sprang; 

And  they,  the  chosen  messengers  of  God 
To  Israel  —  the  sacred  seers  who  sang 

Of  thee  —  long  since  have  mouldered  'neath  the  sod. 

Thou  hast  beheld  Judea's  glory  wane, 
The  sceptre  wrenched  from  her  enfeebled  hands, 

And  seest  the  curse-bound  few  who  still  remain, 
Submissive  vassals  in  their  fathers'  lands. 


1-02  BIBLE  LESSONS. 

Where  the  Shecliiuali  once  resplendent  shone, 

The  lamps  of  Islamism  brightly  glow, 
And  of  her  boasted  Temple,  not  a  stone 

Remains,  her  famed  magnificence  to  show. 
But  thou  art  still  the  same;  of  all  that  lived, 

When  first  on  earth  appeared  the  heavenly  LIGHT, 
EMMANUEL,  thou  only  hast  survived 

To  see  its  beams  dispelling  error's  night. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


The  Doomed  City. 

MARK,  xm,  19.  —  For  in  those  (lays  shall  be  affliction,  such  an  was  not 
from  the  beginning  of  the  creation,  tuhich  God  created  unto  this  time, 
neither  shall  be. 

The  sentence  had  gone  forth,  and  now  had  come 

The  time,  when  nothing  earthly  could  withhold 
The  heaven-forsaken  city,  from  the  doom 

By  Him,  whose  word  can  never  fail,  foretold  — 
When  desolation's  tide  was  to  be  rolled 

O'er  the  devoted  Queen  of  Palestine, 
And  War  its  crimson  banners  foul  unfold, 

Till  Death  should,  over-gorged,  his  work  resign. 

Around  — the  instruments  of  Providence  — 

Were  leagued  the  legions  of  all-conquering  Rome, 
Hemming  their  victims  in  a  space  from  whence 

Escape  was  none  —  their  only  chance  the  tomb, 
Or  to  be  borne  as  captives,  at  the  car 

Of  victory,  subjected  to  the  mock 
Of  their  rude  captors  —  in  some  land  afar 

From  their  loved  home,  to  wear  a  bondsman's  yoke. 

Within — the  breasts  of  the  besotted  race 
Were  rife  with  envy,  discord,  tumult,  hate, 

The  busy  workers  of  their  own  disgrace, 
And  rushing  headlong  on  their  willful  fate; 


BIBLE  LESSONS.  108 

The  ghastly  form  of  Famine  stalked  abroad, 
And  laid  its  withering  spell  on  every  heart, 

Till  Nature  was  outraged,  and  hunger  gnawed, 
With  fiendish  rage,  the  dearest  ties  apart. 

Above — terrific,  fearful,  many  a  sign 

Mysterious  and  portentous  o'er  them  glared  — 
Emblems  of  boundless  slaughter —  wrath  divine, 

To  those  who  had  its  retributions  dared. 
Unheeded  were  these  tokens;  still  they  fought, 

Insatiate  thirsting  for  each  other's  blood, 
Increasing  crime,  regardless  of  the  thought 

They  soon  must  meet  the  presence  of  their  God. 

She  fell  at  last.     The  Roman  drove  the  plough 

O'er  the  foundations  of  the  blackened  scene, 
And  leaving  nought  but  Nature's  hand  to  show 

Where  once  Jerusalem,  the  proud,  had  been. 
His  WORD  is  TRUTH.     All  things  cooperate 

To  accomplish  whatsoever  He  has  willed, 
And  madness  'tis  to  doubt  —  or  soon  or  late  — 

That  all  which  He  declares  will  be  fulfilled. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


"  Our  Father  Who  Art  in  Heaven." 
1  PETER,  5-7.— Casting  all  your  care  upon  Him,  for  Hecareth  for  you, 

He  careth  for  us  !  —  then  our  faith 
Should  ever  keep  us  from  despair; 

No  doubts  should  trouble  one  who  hath 
The  shield  of  the  Almighty's  care. 

He  careth  for  us  !  —  welcome  then, 

Our  Father,  be  Thy  discipline, 
Forbid  that  we  should  e'er  complain, 

And  keep,  oh  keep,  our  souls  from  sin. 


104  BIBLE  LESSONS. 

He  careth  for  us !  —  all  things  move 
Iii  joyful  concert  for  the  good 

Of  those  who  manifest  their  love, 
By  lives  of  holiness,  to  God. 

He  careth  for  us  !  —  and  when  Death 

Shall  lay  on  us  its  icy  hand, 
He'll  crown  with  an  immortal  wreath 

His  children,  in  a  heavenly  land. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


"Fear  Not." 

GENESIS,  XXT,  16,  17.—  And  she  went  and  sat  her  down  over  against  him 
a  good  way  off— for  she  said.  Let  me  not  see  the  death  of  the  child.  And 
she  sat  over  against  him,  and  lifted  up  her  voice  and  wept.  And  God 
heard  the  voice  of  the  lad ;  and  the  angel  of  the  Lord  called  to  Hagar  out 
of  heaven,  and  said  unto  her,  fear  not. 

Beneath  the  shrubs  she  laid  her  child 

And  turned  her  from  his  suffering  glance, 

She  could  not  bear  th'  expression  wild 
That  settled  on  his  countenance. 


She  wept  —  the  tears  of  agony 
From  the  outcast  handmaiden  burst, 

To  think  her  Ishmael  must  die 
By  the  slow-torturing  of  thirst. 

She  wept,  that  she  must  bid  adieu 

Forever  to  her  only  son, 
And  henceforth  sorrowing  pursue 

Her  weary  pilgrimage  alone. 

But  hark!  a  heavenly  voice  conveys 

Delightful  tidings  to  her  ear  — 
"  What  aileth  thee?  fear  not,"  it  says, 
Thv  God  is  with  thee  even  here. 


BIBLE  LESSONS.  105 

The  shade  hath  vanished  from  her  eyes; 

The  crysfal  fount  which  uovv  appears, 
A  life-restoring  aid  supplies  — 

She  weeps,  but  these  are  joyful  tears. 

So,  oft,  when  life's  dark  scenes  amid, 

We  sink  o'erwhelmed  with  deep  distress  — 

And  grieve,  as  lonely  Hagar  did, 
While  in  Beersheba's  wilderness  — 

We  too  an  angel's  voice  may  hear, 

Which  all  anxieties  dispel  — 
Entreating  us  to  banish  fear, 

And  showing  us  a  "  living  well." 
Salem,  Mass.,  1884.   , 


Peter's  Trial  Hour. 
LUKE,  xxii,  61. — And  the  Lord  turned  and  looked  upon  Peter. 

He  looks  on  his  abandoned  Lord, 

Who  stands  with  shackled  limb, 
And  though  His  lips  breathe  not  a  word, 

His  eyes  are  fixed  on  him;  — 
It  is  enough  —  that  searching  gaze 

Hath  thrilled  through  Peter's  frame. 
And  the  tear  of  bitterness  betrays 

The  boaster's  grief  and  shame. 

So,  many  a  virtuous  decree 

Our  hearts  to  action  move, 
But  in  the  hour  of  trial,  we, 

Like  Peter,  faithless  prove. 
Yet  still  the  same  omniscient  eyes 

On  our  transgressions  rest, 
And  well  —  who  thus  his  Lord  denies  — 

If  tears  his  grief  attest. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1334. 


106  BIBLE  LESSONS. 

Wrestling  with  the  Angel. 

"  Millions  of  spiritual  creatures  walk  the  earth, 
Unseen,  both  when  we  wake  and  when  we  sleep."  —  Milton . 

GENESIS,  xxxn,  34-31.  And  Jacob  was  left  alone;  and  there  wrestled  a 
man  with  him  until  the  breaking  of  the  day.  And  when  he  saw  he  pre- 
vailed not,  he  touched  the  hollow  of  his  thigh,  and  the  hollow  of 
Jacob's  thigh  was  out  of  joint  as  he  wrestled  with  him .  And  he  said,  let 
me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh.  And  he  said,  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except 
thou  bless  me.  And  he  said  unto  him.  What  is  thy  name  ?  And  he  said, 
Jacob.  And  he  said,  thy  name  shall  be  called  no  more  Jacob,  but  Israel: 
for  as  a  prince  thou  hast  power  with  God  and  with  men,  and  hast  pre- 
vailed. And  Jacob  asked  him,  and  said,  Tell  me,  I  pray  thee,  thy  name: 
and  he  said,  Wherefore  is  it  that  thou  dost  ask  after  my  tiame  ?  And 
he  blessed  him  there. 

Night  closed  upon  the  scene  at  Mahanaim. 
A  suppliant,  Jacob  sent  his  mission  forth, 
Armed  heavily  with  the  ministry  of  peace: 
The  thronging  memories  of  the  past  replaced 
The  parting  forms  of  kindred  and  of  friends, 
And  glorious  promises  to  him  and  his, 
Of  large  possessions  and  a  numerous  seed, 
Could  scarce  suppress  his  fears  of  Esau's  ire. 

Jacoh  remained  alone  with  troubled  thoughts, 
As  rolled  the  brook  'twixt  him  and  all  of  earth. 
But  lo  !  a  shining  form  the  silence  breaks, 
Hailed  by  the  patriarch  as  a  pledge  of  good, 
With  whom  he  wrestled  till  the  break  of  day; 
The  blessing,  seen  by  faith,  he  earnest  sought, 
Nor  yielded,  though  the  angel,  for  release, 
His  sinew  shrank  with  touch  of  mighty  power. 
And  left  him  halting  on  a  weakened  thigh. 

Oh,  splendid  gift  by  perseverance  won  ! 
Not  Jacob  now,  but  Israel,  pregnant  name 
Of  power  prevailing  both  with  God  and  man. 
"  Thy  name,"  says  Jacob.     ' '  Wherefore  that  to  thee  ?  " 
He  blessed  him  there;  and  Esau's  kindly  face 
Came  with  unselfish  and  forgiving  grace. 


BIBLE  LESSONS. 

So  may  we  wrestle  for  divine  support, 
When  in  the  lonely  walks  of  life  we  wait, 
And  apprehensions  of  some  coming  ill 
Lead  us  to  feel  how  frail  and  weak  we  are; 
So  see  in  all  our  Father's  trial  scenes, 
A  watching  angel  urging  us  to  zeal, 
That  we  may  win  the  needed  gift  of  grace, 
And  turn  the  darkness  to  celestial  light. 
Nor  idly  questioning  the  helper's  name, 
While  his  credentials  in  the  gift  we  see. 
So  like  our  Master,  when  the  Tempter's  power 
He  foiled  by  sure  reliance  on  God's  WORD, 
Our  work  well  done,  a  blessing  like  shall  come 
And  angel  strength  be  ministered  to  us. 
Poughkeepaie,  Sept.  6,  1857. 


The  Soul's  Rest. 

MATTHEW,  xi,  28-30.  Come  unto  me.  all  ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy- 
laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you  and  learn  of  me: 
for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls. 
For  my  yoke  is  easy  and  my  burden  is  light. 

Ho  !  weary  one,  estranged  from  peace, 

By  sin's  dark  burden  sadly  pressed, 
Joy  !  for  a  Saviour  brings  release, 

And  from  thy  sorrows  flee  for  rest. 

Take  up  His  yoke  and  learn  of  Him 

The  beauty  of  a  holy  life, 
Whose  glorious  crown  will  ne'er  grow  dim—  • 

Victor  o'er  elemental  strife. 

Lowly  and  meek,  He  stooped  to  earth 

And  took  our  human  nature  on, 
And,  like  for  Jew  and  Gentile  birth, 

Rest  for  the  soul  sublimely  won. 


108  BIBLE  LKSSONS. 

Easy  His  yoke,  His  burden  light, 
He  doth  a  royal  sceptre  wield, 

Where  love  and  majesty  unite, 
And  solace  in  all  trials  yield. 

"  Eest  for  the  soul !  "  ye  stricken  child 

Of  mortal  mould,  when  faint  ye  tread, 
Where  roll  life  billows  dark  and  wild, 
Lift  to  this  Friend  thy  drooping  head. 

Tried  by  all  woes  of  mortal  lot, 
A  man  of  sorrows  and  of  grief, 

He  knows  our  weaknesses,  and  what 
Is  best  designed  to  bring  relief. 

Nor  only  through  the  conflicts  here, 
Are  Christian  soldiers  richly  blest, 

Beyond  the  con  fine's  of  this  sphere, 
For  them  remains  eternal  rest. 

Rest,  such  as  blissful  angels  feel, 

While  vision-tranced  with  folded  wing, 
Their  golden  harps  sweet  cadence  tell 

Of  Him,  from  whom  all  blessings  spring. 
Poughkeepsie,  Sept.  13,  1857. 


The  Numbering  of  Israel. 

2  SAMUEL,  xxiv-2.— For  the  king  said  to  Joab,  the  captain  of  the  host 
which  was  with  him,  go  now  through  all  the  tribes  of  Israel,  from  Dan 
even  to  Beersheba,  and  number  ye  the  people,  that  I  may  know  the  num- 
ber of  the  people . 

Go  count  the  people  —  I  would  know 

Their  number  —  said  the  monarch  proud  — 

Fling  David's  banner  to  the  foe, 
Exultant  o'er  a  mighty  crowd. 


BIBLE  LESSONS.  109 

From  Dan  to  Beersheba  then  sped, 

Obedient  to  the  royal  word, 
Captains  of  host,  by  Joab  led, 

And  numbered  those  who  drew  the  sword. 

Ah!  subtle  tempter,  how  thy  plot 

Hath  stirred  the  Hebrew  monarch's  pride  — 

Jehovah's  outstretched  arm  forgot, 
In  numbers  now  doth  he  confide. 

Oh!  weak  distrust  of  sovereign  care, 

Oh!  self-reliant  Hebrew  king, 
Thy  numbers  soon  the  grave  shall  share, 

Thy  pride  become  a  poisoned  sting. 

"  What  choose  ye  ?  "  was  the  voice  of  God, 

"  Into  Thy  hand  oh  let  us  fall" 
Then  passed  the  pestilential  rod, 

And  echoed  loud  Death's  harvest  call. 

In  vain  are  walls  and  bulwarks  high, 

An  arm  of  flesh  how  blindly  vain, 
Salvation  only  draweth  nigh 

To  him  who  owns  Jehovah's  reign. 

*     In  Thee  is  everlasting  strength, 

Nor  ever  faileth  Thy  decree, 
In  perfect  peace  Thou'lt  keep  at  length 
The  way  of  him  who  rests  on  Thee. 

Worship  with  Thee  acceptance  finds, 
Though  few  the  suppliant  knee  may  bend, 

And  serve  Thy  praise  obedient  minds, 
Though  no  proud  temple  walls  ascend. 

Trust  in  the  Lord,  the  moral  is, 

Whatever  may  betide  us  here  — 
Earth  and  its  fulness  all  are  His, 

Nor  ever  should  his  servants  fear. 
Poughkeepsie,  Oct.  4, 1857.       , 
10 


110  BIBLE  LESSONS. 

The  Angel  of  the  Sepulchre. 

MARK,  xvi,  5-6. —  And  entering  into  the  sepulchre,  they  saw  a  young 
man  sitting  oil  the  right  side,  clothed  in  a  long  white  garment ;  and  they 
were  affrighted.  And  he  saith  unto  them,  be  not  affrighted  ;  ye  seek 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  which  was  crucified  ;  He  is  risen,  He  is  not  here  ;  be- 
hold the  place  where  they  laid  Him . 

The  risen  suu  on  First  Day  morn 

Shone  o'er  the  Saviour's  garden  tomb, 

As  came  the  Marys,  sad  and  lorn, 
Bearing  sweet  spices  and  perfume. 

With  anxious  hearts,  the  Lord  they  loved 
They  sought,  and  found  at  early  hour 

The  stone  was  from  the  doorway  moved, 
Though  all  untouched  by  mortal  power. 

They  entered  now  the  rock-hewn  way  — 

Why  do  their  pulses  wildly  stir! 
There  sat  in  glorious  array, 

The  angel  of  the  sepulchre. 

No  lifeless  form  is  outstretched  there, 

To  need  the  Marys'  kind  intent  — 
Triumphant  now  —  they  only  share 
The  tomb  with  angel  visitant. 

• 
"  Be  not  afraid  !  "     Oh  !  blessed  word, 

From  lips  of  white-robed  messenger  — 
Be  not  afraid,  ye  seek  the  Lord, 
Behold  !  He  is  no  longer  here. 

Bear  to  His  friends  the  gladsome  news, 
That  death  had  yielded  up  his  might, 

And  Christ,  rejected  of  the  Jews, 
Brings  life,  immortal  life,  to  light  ! 

The  cross  and  tomb,  their  work  now  done, 
"  The  heel  has  bruised  the  serpent's  head," 

More  than  was  lost  Emmanuel  won, 
By  angel  voices  heralded. 


BIIU,K  LESSONS.  Ill 

Thus  when  life's  trial  scenes  appear, 

Lest  from  the  truth  our  footsteps  err, 
By  faith's  clear  utterance  may  we  hear 

The  angel  of  the  sepulchre. 
Poughkeepsie,  Oct.  11,  1857. 


Prayer. 

The  prayer  of  faith  to  the  burdened  breast 

Affords  a  calm  and  sweet  relief, 
For  its  heavenly  influence  lulls  to  rest 

The  vain  desires  whose  end  is  grief. 

How  great  the  privilege  to  raise 

The  aspirations  of  the  soul, 
And  offer  up  the  heartfelt  praise 

To  power  and  love  that  life  control. 

The  bright,  alluring  scenes  of  life 

While  thus  engaged  dim  not  the  sight, 

Nor  worldly  din,  nor  passion's  strife, 
Appear  to  cloud  the  heavenly  light. 

Its  mild,  subduing  influence  sends 

A  holy  thrill  into  the  breast, 
Its  soothing  balm  a  healing  lends 

To  cure  the  soul  by  sin  oppressed. 

And  dear  is  such  commune  to  those 
Who  pine  beneath  misfortune's  load, 

For  far  above  all  earthly  woes 
It  lifts  the  heart  in  peace  to  God. 

There  is  in  prayer  a  blessed  spell 
For  our  relief  most  richly  given; 

Its  hopes  are  from  a  living  well 

Whose  fountain-source  is  found  in  heaven. 
Mass.,  1834. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


To  a  Red  Breast  Songster. 

T  hear  at  dawn  thy  caroling, 
Thou  sweetest  songster  of  the  spring, 
As  up  to  heaven  thy  morning  prayer 
Is  borne  upon  the  silent  air. 

The  varying  cadence  of  thy  song 
With  tuneful  glee  thou  dost  prolong, 
Dispensing  from  thy  perch  on  high 
A  spirit-stirring  minstrelsy. 

Thou  sendest  out  in  each  wild  note 
Of  gratitude  that  swells  thy  throat, 
Devotion's  melody;  a  lay 
Calling  the  soul  from  earth  away. 

So  constantly,  at  morn  and  even, 
Thou  warblest  forth  the  "  airs  of  heaven, 
Thou  seem'st  commissioned  from  the  skies 
To  teach  us  where  our  hearts  should  rise. 

And  though  I  cannot  lift  a  strain, 
As  pure  as  thine,  from  earthly  stain, 
My  voice  I'd  learn  from  thee  to  raise, 
At  morn  and  eve,  my  God  to  praise. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  113 

Leaving  Home. 

;  First  partings  form  a  lesson  hard  to  learn."  — L.  E.  L. 

The  day,  preparing  for  its  flight, 

Had  robed  itself  in  twilight's  guise, 
(Bringing  that  hour  of  sober  light 

When  thought  takes  wing  and  backward  flies, 
And  we  trace  through  each  departed  year 

The  various  links  in  being's  chain, 
Dwelling  on  those  to  remembrance  dear, 

And  living  their  pleasures  o'er  again,) 
When  alone  walked  forth  a  youthful  bride, 

To  take  a  lingering,  parting  gaze 
On  scenes  with  memory  close  allied, 

The  home  of  many  halcyon  days. 

The  heart  will  wind  itself  around 

The  objects  of  its  watchfulness  — 
And  keenly  feels  the  sad  rebound 

Of  broken  links  and  lost  caress. 
Each  shrub  and  flower  that  she  had  reared 

With  much  of  anxious  tender  care, 
Ne'er  had  so  fragrantly  appeared 

As  at  that  hour,  nor  bloomed  so  fair. 
Through  bowers  endeared  by  time  she  roved, 

Her  heart  with  sadness  deeply  fraught  — 
At  every  turn  some  thing  long  loved 

Was  linked  with  retrospective  thought. 

The  grove-crowned  hill  —  the  winding  brook  — 
The  feathery  brood  that  warbled  nigh  — 

Seemed  each  to  claim  a  parting  look, 
Seemed  each  to  ask  a  parting  sigh  ; 

And  when  from  earth  her  eyes  would  roam, 
To  sky  of  clear  cerulean  hue, 


114  MISCELLANEOUS. 

She  thought  that  o'er  another  home 
It  could  not  wear  so  deep  a  hlue. 

Not  all  the  hopes  that  mutual  love 
Can  waken  in  the  youthful  breast, 

Could  with  their  magic  spell  remove 
The  weight  that  on  her  spirits  pressed. 

A  harder  task  was  she  to  learn, 

As  morning  opened  on  the  scene; 
She  was  henceforth  from  those  to  turn, 

On  whom  she  had  been  wont  to  lean 
For  all  affection  could  confer  — 

For  guidance,  counsel,  sympathy  — 
From  those  who  had  watched  over  her 

With  love,  almost  idolatry  ; 
To  break  time-hallowed  intimacies  — 

For  distant  lands  her  home  to  leave, 
Where  there  were  none  but- stranger  faces 

A  smile  of  welcoming  to  give. 

We  cannot  form  an  earthly  tie 

That  calls  not  for  some  sacrifice  ; 
How  oft  in  love's  bright  hour  a  sigh 

Of  fond  regret  will  softly  rise, 
To  chill  the  warmth  of  its  caress  — 

The  thought  of  all  we  must  forsake 
Obscuring  half  its  loveliness, 

And  causing  us  from  bliss  to  wake. 

But  time  will  dry  the  parting  tear, 

And  blot  its  memory  from  the  mind  ; 
Like  all  that  come  'twill  disappear, 

And  leave  no  lasting  trace  behind. 
E'en  life's  last  parting  fails  to  leave 

A  cureless  wound  upon  the  heart ; 
Time  brings  a  balm  to  those  who  grieve, 

Allaying  sorrow's  keenest  smart. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  llo 

Our  purest  joys  have  some  bleak  shade, 

Alloyed  by  Providence,  'twould  seem, 
That  we  may  never  be  betrayed 

Into  forgetfulness  —  or  deem 
The  human  soul  —  that  deathless  spark  — 

Can  e'er  again  an  Eden  find, 
Until  for  heaven  it  shall  embark, 

And  reach  the  home  for  it  designed  ; 
That  home  where  partings  all  shall  cease, 

Nor  blight  nor  end  its  joys  shall  know, 
Where  all  shall  know  that  "  perfect  peace," 

(Our  Father's  word)  that  He'll  bestow. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


Desertion. 

Where  are  the  friends  who  worshipped  thee 
When  thou  wert  fortune's  child? 

No  longer  now  the  crowd  I  see 
That  on  thee  kindly  smiled, 

When  wealth  and  fashion  round  thee  cast 

Their  fickle  charms  —  too  bright  to  last. 

No  longer  flattery's  serpent-tone 

Beguiles  thy  listening  ear  ; 
Away  the  golden  charms  have  flown 

Which  made  thee  once  so  dear  ; 
And  flattery  never  homage  paid 
Where  frowning  fortune  cast  its  shade. 

Adversity's  unerring  test, 

Can  only  friendship  prove, 
And  never  yet  hath  it  suppressed 

Disinterested  love  : 
And  it  hath  left  thee,  oh  !  how  few  ! 
Of  all  that  fond  and  flattering  crew. 


116  MISCELLANEOUS. 

Thou  moved  among  them  robed  in  light, 

Eclipsing  their  dull  rays, 
And  now  that  drear  misfortune's  night 

Hath  changed  thee  to  their  gaze, 
With  unconcern  they  think  of  thee 
Nor  care  thy  altered  lot  to  see. 

Turn  from  th'  unlovely  thoughts  that  crowd 

In  sadness  on  thy  mind  — 
Let  other  hopes  dispel  this  cloud, 

And  with  thee  refuge  find; 
Again  let  joy  illume  thy  face, 
And  banish  grief's  desponding  trace. 

Thou  hast  the  gift  within  thyself 
To  bless  thy  peaceful  hearth, 

For  can  the  glare  of  worldly  pelf 
Enhance  thy  real  worth; 

Thy  many  virtues  far  outshine 

The  glittering  lure  that  once  was  thine. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


A  Sister's  Lament. 

I  love,  when  evening  shades  the  light, 
To  give  full  scope  to  memory's  flight  — 
From  present  cares  rny  thoughts  to  free, 
And  come  o'er  time  and  space  to  thee  — 
To  where,  beneath  the  dark  blue  wave, 
Thou  slumberest  in  thy  ocean-grave. 
Encircled  in  a  sea- weed  shroud, 
Wound  round  thee  by  th'  unresting  flood, 
Thy  corpse  in  watery  depths  is  laid, 

'Mid  gorgeous  gems  whose  radiant  hues 
Their  lustre  round  thy  couch  diffuse; 
Where  nought  the  stillness  can  invade, 


MISCELLANEOUS.  117 

Save  requiem  of  the  swelling  surge, 
While  sounding  forth  old  ocean's  dirge; 
And  as  the  finny  monsters  sweep 
Their  circuit  through  the  liquid  deep, 
With  slackened  fin  o'er  thee  they  rest, 
And  scan  with  curious  eyes  their  guest, 
Then  onward  through  the  waters  cleave, 
Aud  thee  again  all  lonely  leave. 

Full  many  a  heart-breathed  prayer  for  thee, 

Followed  thy  course  upon  the  sea, 

That  thou  might  be,  in  danger's  hour, 

Protected  by  Almighty  power  — 

That  He  who  bids  the  billows  roll, 

Would  cheer  and  elevate  the  soul, 

When  darkening  tempests  should  assail, 

And  earthly  hopes  and  efforts  fail. 

And  though  our  prayers  to  save  were  vain, 

We  would  not  murmur  nor  complain, 

But  recognize  the  hand  of  God, 

And  bow  beneath  His  chastening  rod. 

Of  thee  though  we  have  been  bereft, 

Thy  memory  behind  is  left, 

And  will  with  all  our  pleasures  blend, 

A  sanctifying  power  to  lend. 

At  times  f  orgetf  ulness  may  cast 

Its  lengthening  shadows  o'er  the  past  — 

At  times  the  chill  of  selfishness 

Its  blight  may  on  my  mind  impress  — 

May  turn  from  thee  my  thoughts  away, 

May  lead  from  thee  my  heart  astray  — 

But  soon  will  better  feelings  rise, 

And  win  me  back  to  kindred  ties, 

For  never  can  I  find  another 

So  dear  as  thou,  my  only  brother. 

My  brotlier,  oft  I  deem  thee  near, 
In  airy  presence  —  and  I  hear 


118  MlSCELL  A  NEOTJS. 

At  times  thy  gladsome  voice  —  and  greet 
Thy  kindly  smile,  with  love  replete; 
As  when  thou  left,  I  see  thee  now, 
No  trace  of  care  on  cheek  or  brow — 
Thy  buoyant  step  and  beaming  eye 
Betokening  healthful  energy; 
How  little  then  I  thought  that  ere 
Another  season  should  appear, 
Thy  bark  its  starting-point  would  find, 
And  thou  —  deep  sepulchred  behind  ! 

But  thou  wilt  not  for  aye  remain 
Engulphed  within  the  rolling  main; 
For  when  the  final  summon  sounds, 
It  will  pervade  earth's  utmost  bounds; 
The  sea  its  myriads  back  shall  give, 
Death's  prisoners  again  will  live. 
My  brother  then,  a  faith  sublime, 
Hath  taught  my  soul,  that  to  a  clime 
Exempted  from  the  ills  of  this, 
The  pure  in  heart  shall  rise  to  bliss. 
Like  the  heavenly  pillars  to  those  of  old, 
This  hope  my  spirit  will  uphold, 
And  every  anxious  doubt  repress, 
While  wandering  through  life's  wilderness. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


Love's  Rhapsody. 

"  Can  I  not  find  one  friend  —  one  faithful  friend  —  in  whom  to  repose 
my  confidence,  with  whom  to  share  my  joy;  I  ask  no  more,  and  life  has 
no  trial  which  I  will  not  endure.  The  world  is  wide  —  nature  is  boundless 
—  is  there  not  such  in  existence."  —  Extract. 

Such  are  the  questionings  which  rise 

To  agitate  the  youthful  breast, 
Nor  cease  until  with  fancy's  guise 

Some  fairy  image  hath  been  drest. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  119 

Some  form  of  beauty's  rarest  birth, 
And  kindly  feelings,  modest  worth, 
Whose  glance  the  inmost  soul  can  thrill, 
And  reign  supremely  o'er  the  will, 
Whose  voice  more  musical  appears 
Than  other  tones  which  greet  our  ears, 
One  whom  propitious  heaven  supplies 
To  make  our  lot  a  paradise. 
Such  hast  thou  ever  been  to  me; 

A  being  of  unworldliness  — 
An  object  of  idolatry, 

Whose  faintest  smile  had  power  to  bless; 
1  have  seen  those  more  fair  than  thou  — 

Who  were  more  brightly  beautiful, 
Who  could  awhile  around  them  throw 

A  deeper  spirit-stirring  spell; 
But  they  were  all  an  outward  glare, 
And  though  at  first  they  could  ensnare, 
And  for  awhile  their  charms  endure, 
Yet  they  could  not  the  heart  secure; 
For  soon  unfelt  is  the  control 
Beauty  alone  has  o'er  the  soul. 
And  they  had  no  abiding  stay, 
They  passed  from  every  thought  away, 
To  leave  again  a  vacancy 

For  other  transitory  things, 
As  evanescent  as  the  ray 

A  sunbeam  on  an  atom  flings. 

But  thou  hast  stamped  a  deep  impress 

That  will  defy  forgetful  ness, 

Hath  waked  within  my  breast  a  strain 

Whose  music  ever  will  remain; 

Of  all  the  past  has  given  to  me, 

There's  nought  so  sweet  to  memory 

As  those  bright  hours  enjoyed  with  thee. 


120  MISCELLANEOUS. 

Too  sooii,  alas,  these  dreams  must  fade 

The  parting  hour  so  long  delayed, 

That  Hope  her  baseless  dome  might  rear, 

Inevitably  hastens  near; 

For  there  exists,  I  know  too  well, 

A  gulf  between  impassable, 

And  'tis  the  hard  decree  of  fate 

That  henceforth  we  must  separate. 

Well,  I  can  now  more  calmly  dwell 
Upon  the  sadness  of  farewell; 
A  secret  talisman  I  bear 
To  check  the  rising  of  despair; 
The  thought  that  thou  wilt  bear  my  grief, 
Though  selfishness,  will  give  relief, 
And  grief  divided  with  thy  heart 
Is  better  far  than  joy  apart. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


The  Invalid. 

She  moves  with  an  agile  step  along, 

Arresting  every  eye, 
The  cynosure  of  a  beautiful  throng, 

Beyond  all  rivalry ; 
The  rose  of  health  on  a  cheek  now  blooms, 

By  dimpling  smiles  imprest, 
And  the  spirit  of  joy  a  breast  illumes, 

Where  grief  was  rare  a  guest. 
From  the  past  she  has  gathered  but  delight, 

Hope's  beams  o'er  the  present  play, 
And  visions  of  bliss  are  dancing  bright 

O'er  the  future's  flower-clad  way. 

There  comes  a  change.     Disease  hath  paled 
Life's  healthful  coloring, 


MISCELLANEOUS.  121 

And  the  lustre  of  her  eye  is  veiled 

By  the  shadow  of  death's  wing  ; 
The  voice,  whose  silver  tones  so  late, 

Like  song  of  the  spring-time  bird, 
Could  every  listener  captivate, 

Is  now  but  faintly  heard. 
She  knows  the  cords  that  bind  her  soul 

Within  its  cell  of  clay, 
And  keep  it  from  its  destined  goal, 

Are  slowly  giving  way  ; 
That  the  things  of  time  are  waxing  dim, 

A  mist  is  shrouding  earth, 
And  her  spirit  must  soon  return  to  Him 

From  whom  it  had  its  birth. 

But  though  her  breast  with  frequent  sighs 

May  heave  regretfully, 
As  scenes  of  former  revelries 

Come  back  to  memory, 
'Tis  not  that  she  would  now  recall, 

And  live  them  o'er  again, 
But  grief,  that  she  should  stake  her  all 

On  joys  so  frail  and  vain  ; 
For  she  hath  proved  they  cannot  cheer 

Our  being's  parting  hour, 
Or  deck  the  darkness  of  our  bier 

With  one  immortal  flower. 
Religion  now  hath  o'er  her  cast 

The  gleams  of  its  sacred  joys, 
And  she  turneth  gladly  from  the  past/ 

To  list  to  its  angel  voice  ; 
It  gently  o'er  her  soul  had  breathed 

A  peace  it  ne'er  had  known, 
And  her  pallid  brow  will  soon  be  wreathed 

With  an  everlasting  crown. 
Salem,  M>s8.,l$M. 

11 


122  MISCELLANEOUS. 

Kindness. 

,in  that  we  woul 
the  heart  mu 


"It  is  in  vain  that  we  would  coldly  gaze  on  such  as  smile  upon  us; 
le  heart  must  leap  kiudly  back  to  kindness."  —  Byron . 


Yes,  such  is  tlie  supreme  control 
Of  kindness  o'er  the  human  soul ; 
The  feelings  in  their  harshest  mood 
It  softens  into  gratitude, 
Subduing  by  its  winning  power 
The  evil  thoughts  that  darkly  lower, 
When  injuries  the  heart  depress, 
Or  anger  stirs  to  bitterness. 

When  by  the  spell  of  sickness  bound, 
The  hours  pass  their  unvarying  round 
Of  suffering  —  oh,  then  how  sweet, 
The  tones  of  those  we  love  to  greet ; 
Their  melody  a  charm  conveys 
To  lighten  up  the  languid  gaze, 
Pain's  restless  throbbiugs  to  allay, 
And  drive  depression  from  its  prey. 

When  bowed  beneath  the  stern  decree 

Of  sorrow  or  adversity, 

The  stricken  one  despairing  droops 

O'er  ruined  schemes  and  blighted  hopes, 

This  heaven-blessed  power  new  life  can  give, 

The  sinking  energies  revive, 

The  wounded  feelings  gently  soothe, 

Misfortune's  rugged  pathway  smooth, 

And  bid  again  the  rescued  one 

His  onward  race  rejoicing  run. 

Enter  the  captive's  gloomy  cell, 
And  witness  there  its  potent  spell; 
The  heart  that  would  unmoved  remain, 
Though  lost  to  hope,  though  pierced  by  pain, 


MISCELLANEOUS.  123 

Though  death  should  undisguised  draw  near, 
And  in  its  sternest  form  appear, 
Will  bow  submissive  to  such  sway, 
And  child-like  weep  its  woes  away. 

The  sanguinary  savage  yields 
Free  homage  to  the  force  it  wields; 
A  trifling  benefit  secures 
A  friend  in  him  while  life  endures. 
It  is  the  universal  key 
Which  turns  with  ease  humanity, 
And  strikes  a  chord  that,  will  resound 
In  every  clime  where  man  is  found. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


To  a  Sorrowing  Friend. 

In  any  form,  come  when  it  will, 

Death  must  some  heart  with  sorrow  fill, 

Dissever  from  it  some  fond  tie 

Whose  loss  no  other  can  supply. 

It  matters  not,  though  he  should  find 

A  victim  to  his  stroke  resigned, 

Hailing  the  summons  with  delight 

To  wing  from  earthly  bounds  his  flight, 

Or  one  who  almost  leaves  with  strife  — 

Convulsive  clinging  unto  life  — 

Whether  a  friend  mature  in  years, 

In  his  dark  kingdom  disappears, 

Or  infancy  its  eyelids  close, 

To  sink  into  the  last  repose, — 

Still  in  some  struck  and  quivering  heart 

Is  felt  the  ruthless  tyrant's  dart. 

And  thou,  my  friend,  hast  seen  the  earth 
Close  over  her  who  gave  thee  birth  — 
Hast  heard  "dust  unto  dust  "  o'er  one 
For  whom  thou  gladly  wouldst  have  gone 


124  MISCELLANEOUS. 

From  all  life's  pleasant  scenes,  to  rest 
Within  earth's  all-absorbing  breast. 
I  knew  her  worth  —  the  power  to  move 
All  hearts  to  reverence  and  love 
Was  hers;  she  was  too  pure,  I  deemed, 
To  sojourn  long  on  earth;  she  seemed 
A  spirit  placed  by  some  mistake 

Amid  the  things  existing  here, 
That  would  too  soon  this  realm  forsake 

And  seek  again  its  natal  sphere. 
Her  image  is  inwoven  with 
The  memory  of  the  past,  like  wreath 
Of  fadeless  flowers,  whose  beauty  rare 
Nor  time  nor  change  can  e'er  impair. 

Over  the  distance  unto  thee, 
I  send  the  voice  of  sympathy; 
By  a  mysterious  providence 
Thy  mother  hath  been  taken  hence. 
And  thou  art  left  to  find  thy  way 
Alone,  o'er  life's  tempestuous  sea, 
At  early  age,  when  most  the  soul 
Requires  her  love  inspired  control, 
When  our  affections  all  entwine 
Round  her  like  tendrils  round  the  vine. 

But  though  misfortunes  overwhelm, 
An  unseen  Pilot  guides  the  helm, 
And  when  the  friends  we  long  have  loved 
Are  from  their  wonted  haunts  removed, 
'Tis  for  the  best,  we  should  believe, 
For  those  who  go  and  those  who  grieve, 
And  'tis  mistaken  love  that  would 
Recall  again  to  earth  the  good. 

Thy  mother  still  will  o'er  thee  bend, 
Nor  less  than  when  on  earth  befriend; 


MISCELLANEOUS.  135 

Oft  dwelling  on  her,  you  will  feel 
A  holy  pleasure  o'er  you  steal; 
She  to  her  earthly  loves  will  come, 
To  lure  them  to  her  happy  home, 
To  loose  from  them  the  fetterings 
Which  earth  around  the  spirit  flings, 
And  animate  and  nerve  them  on, 
Till  they,  like  her,  the  race  have  won. 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 

Home  Longings. 

I  saw  the  moisture  in  her  eye, 
And  heard  a  half -suppressed  sigh; 
Fast  as  she  brushed  away  a  tear, 
Another  tell-tale  would  appear, 
Till  with  averted  face  she  strove 
To  hide  what  she  could  not  remove, 
And  keep  (ah  vain  attempt)  unknown, 
The  grief  she  was  ashamed  to  own. 
I  could  not  be  at  loss  to  know 
Why  saduess  darkened  lip  and  brow, 
For  young  experience  taught  me  why, 
Were  mingled  thus  the  tear  and  sigh; 
Such  sorrowing  I  knew  must  come 
From  one  who  fondly  yearned  for  home. 

We  yearn  for  home;  we  turn  away 
From  all  that  would  invite  our  stay, 
And  send  fond  memory  o'er  the  space, 
To  where  we  left  our  kindred  race; 
'Tis  there  our  first  impressions  meet 
And  form  associations  sweet, 
There  all  our  best  affections  find 
Supports  round  which  they  freely  wind, 
To  those  we  in  return  can  give 
The  kindness  we  from  them  receive, 


126  MISCELLANEOUS. 

And  there,  perchance,  the  grass  may  wave 
O'er  some  departed  dear  one's  grave. 

We  yearn  for  home;  through  winter's  time 
The  birds  must  seek  a  milder  clime; 
But  when  the  snow-clad  season  yields 
To  spring's  gay  flowers  and  verdant  fields, 
On  eager  wings  they  cleave  the  air, 
Unto  their  former  haunts  repair, 
And,  nest  renewed,  the  old  one  near, 
Their  callow  brood  again  they  rear. 
And  when  compelled  by  adverse  fate, 
From  those  we  love  to  separate, 
We  wander  forth,  but  never  find 
A  home  like  that  we  leave  behind. 
Though  for  a  season  friendship's  smile 
Our  homeward  longings  may  beguile, 
Or  pleasure  lure  with  its  caress 
The  memory  to  forgetfulness, 
Yet  there  are  moments  when  we  feel 
Home  recollections  o'er  us  steal, 
Which  bid  all  other  thoughts  begone, 
And  occupy  the  mind  alone; 
The  chords  of  kindred  love  they  sweep, 
And  make  us  wish  that  like  the  race, 
Who  wander  through  the  upper  deep, 
We  could  our  journeyings  retrace. 

We  yearn  for  home  but  when  the  hand 
Of  death  has  thinned  its  little  band, 
And  naught  meets  the  inquiring  eye 
But  cold  and  silent  vacancy, 
Where  once  a  smiling  group  was  seen, 
And  all  was  happiness  serene, 
Then  home  no  longer  can  impart 
Its  wonted  joyaunce  to  the  heart, 


MISCELLANEOUS.  127 

Xor  chance  nor  change  again  restore 
The  charms  which  it  possessed  before; 
Then  from  all  earth  can  give  we  turn. 
And  for  their  heavenly  mansion  yearn. 
Quincy,  Mass.,  1835. 


To . 

'Tis  withered  now  —  thy  rich  bouquet  — 

Its  life  and  beauty  gone; 
But  though  its  bloom  hath  passed  away, 

'Tis  still  a  treasured  boon; 
The  far  domain  from  whence  it  came 

I  never  loved  as  yet, 
Yet  there  are  those  who  have  a  claim 

My  heart  can  ne'er  forget; 

Whose  fond  remembrance  'mid  the  press 

Of  constant,  daily  care, 
Can  dissipate  my  sveariness, 

Or  give  me  strength  to  bear; 
Thy  token  bids  the  present  flee. 

And  brings  them  to  my  mind, 
A  talisman  to  memory, 

A  thing  with  home  entwined. 

It  speaks  to  me  of  thee,  my  friend  — 

As  bloomed  these  fragrant  flowers, 
When  I  received  them  from  thy  hand, 

So  bloom  thy  youthful  hours; 
As  in  their  freshness  fair  were  these, 

So  nature  lavishly 
Hath  given  thee,  with  a  mind  to  please, 

The  gift  to  charm  the  eye. 

Like  earth's  fair  flowers,  we  are  taught 
That  we  must  know  decay, 


128  MISCELLANEOUS. 

The  most  secure  in  health  are  not 

Less  perishing  than  they; 
A  truth  that's  traced  in  bold  relief 

On  every  daily  page, 
A  warning  to  the  soul  how  brief 

Its  earthly  heritage. 

Yet  such  reflections  will  impart 

But  gloom  unto  the  mind, 
If  th'  pearl  of  priceless  wealth,  the  heart 

As  yet  hath  failed  to  find; 
'Tis  this,  when  earthly  comforts  fail, 

The  spirit  can  control, 
Lifting  it  o'er  life's  narrow  pale 

Unto  an  heavenly  goal. 
Salem,  Mass.,  18-34. 


Striving  to  Unveil  the  Future. 

Vain  curiosity  !  thy  power 

First  banished  peace  from  Eden's  bower, 

And  drove  its  happy  tenants  forth 

To  toil  and  sweat  where  all  was  dearth. 

How  oft  impatiently  we  burn 

Futurity's  veiled  leaf  to  turn. 

Foregoing  much  of  present  bliss 

For  some  imagined  happiness, 

Or  with  a  self -tormenting  will 

Forefashioning  uncertain  ill; 

Yet  could  we  rend  the  veil  aside, 

Which  shrouds  with  its  mysterious  folds 
What  is  to  human  ken  denied, 

Would  what  Futurity  unfolds 
Of  all  that  we  must  bear  and  do, 
Cause  sweet  contentment  to  ensue. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  129 

In  olden  times  a  race  we  find, 

Endowed  with  more  than  mortal  mind, 

Who  could  intelligibly  read 

What  the  Almighty  had  decreed  ; 

Yet,  who  the  Prophet's  gift  would  ask, 

If  doomed  to  their  unthankful  task  ! 

Driven  forth  into  the  wilderness 

By  those  whom  they  had  sought  to  bless, 

And  by  Jehovah's  stern  rebuke 

Again  to  duty  driven  back  — 

As  it  was  with  the  Tishbite  seer  — 

"  What  doest  thou,  Elijah,  here  f  " 

And  he,  the  "  man  of  sorrows,"  too  — 

His  prescience  waa  the  fruitful  source, 
From  whence  those  sad  reflections  grew, 

Which  darkened  o'er  His  earthly  course; 
While  duty  bade  Him  to  condemn, 
He  mourned  o'er  lost  Jerusalem; 
It  need  must  be  a  prophet's  tomb 

Should  lie  without  the  city's  gate, 
And  truly  did  the  Saviour's  doom 

Bear  witness  of  the  prophet's  fate. 
Danbury,  Conn.,  1837. 


Love's  Astrology. 

Among  the  superstitions  of  the  French  peasantry,  it  is  mentioned  by 
some  author,  that  if  a  star  shoot  while  a  lover,  who  has  not  "  passed  the 
Rubicon,"  is  gazing  at  it  and  thinking  of  his  mistress,  it  is  an  auspicious 
omen,  and  denotes  the  successful  termination  of  his  suit. 

How  beautiful  ye  are, 

Ye  orbs  of  silvery  light  — 
How  more  than  earthly  fair 

To  our  admiring  sight; 
Omnipotence  and  love 

Hath  spread  ye  thus  abroad, 


130  MISCELLANEOUS. 

That  all  who  look  above 
May  know  there  is  a  God. 

The  weary  world  around 

Is  wrapt  in  tranquil  sleep, 
And  not  a  single  sound 

Breaks  o'er  the  silence  deep, 
Save  the  discordant  notes 

Of  insect  minstrelsy, 
Or  the  soft  breeze  that  floats 

In  gentle  murmurs  by. 

And  at  this  lonely  hour, 

When  stillness  broods  o'er  all, 
I  feel  within  a  power 

That  bids  me  on  thee  call  ; 
By  mystic  lore  of  earth, 

Of  thee  'twas  taught  of  old, 
The  events  of  human  birth 

Thy  influence  controlled. 

Then  list  ye  to  my  plea, 

Ye  luminaries  fair, 
Reveal  the  mystery  — 

A  lover  lifts  his  prayer  : 
A  form  of  queenly  grace, 

My  plaint  to  thee  hath  moved, 
Of  thine  own  loveliness  — 

One  who  but  seen  is  loved. 

I  question  thee  of  her  — 

Say,  what  canst  thou  reveal 
To  Love's  astrologer, 

To  make  or  mar  his  weal ; 
Thy  answer  I  await  — 

Will  our  existence  be 
Linked  to  a  common  fate 

Throughout  eternity  ? 


MISCELLANEOUS.  131 


Or,  parted,  are  we  doomed 

Life's  scenes  to  wander  o'er  — 
Oar  hearts  to  each  entombed  — 

Our  hands  to  clasp  no  more  ? 
Mute  are  ye  all  V  —  ah,  no  ! 

Hope  beams  into  my  breast  — 
You  augury  I  know  — 

Your  suppliant  now  is  blest. 
Daribury,  Conn.,  1837. 


Woman  at  the  Bed  of  Sickness. 

He  cannot  linger  with  them  long, 

Though  hope  the  thought  repel  — 
That  pallid  cheek  and  wasted  frame 

An  early  death  foretell  ; 
The  "hollow  pageantries"  of  earth 

Are  fading  from  his  view, 
A  few  more  weary  hours,  and  then 

He  bids  the  world  adieu. 

A  youthful  form  is  by  his  couch, 

With  constant  watching  pale  — 
Unasked  supplying  every  want, 

With  gentle  smiles,  that  veil 
A  heart  with  dark  forebodings  rilled, 

Those  auguries  of  gloom, 
Which  come  affection's  eye  to  dim 

With  visions  of  the  tomb. 

Before  her  bowed  by  fell  disease 

An  only  brother  droops, 
Unconscious,  in  his  feverish  sleep, 

Who  o'er  him  kindly  stoops  ; 
But  as  she  wipes  his  moistened  brow, 

He  wakens  from  his  dream, 
And  in  a  tone  of  helplessness, 

Faint  murmurs  forth  her  name. 


132  MISCELLANEOUS. 

That  word  —  0,  how  the  hollow  tones' 

Have  moved  and  thrilled  her  breast, 
Forcing  frotu  grief's  deep  fountain  tears, 

That  will  not  be  repressed  : 
It  told  how  much  was  felt  the  lovej 

Which  knew  no  ebbing  tide, 
And  strove  beneath  a  placid  look, 

Deep  weariness  to  hide. 

0,  not  amid  the  gaudy  throng 

Who  wait  on  pleasure's  shrine, 
Not  in  the  revel  or  the  song 

Seems  Woman  most  divine  ; 
But  when  she  bends  at  suffering's  call, 

To  soothe  its  darksome  hour, 
Ah,  then  her  spirit  is  imbued 

With  an  angelic  power. 

And  that  young  maiden  — though  her  lot 

Is  with  earth's  toiling  race  — 
Though  Nature  hath  to  her  denied 

The  charms  of  form  or  face  — 
Looked  lovelier  in  her  humble  sphere 

Of  patient  watchfulness, 
Than  if  enthroned  as  beauty's  queen, 

And  robed  in  jewelled  dress. 
Danbury,  Conn.,  1837. 


Lines  Written  in  my  Cousin's  Album. 

Nellie,  my  youthful  friend,  may  you, 
As  on  you  tread  life's  changing  way, 

Find  ever  friends,  both  warm  and  true, 
And  strength  for  each  succeeding  day. 

Life  has  its  mission  for  us  all  — 

To  bear  and  do,  to  trust  and  hope  — 


MISCELLANEOUS.  133 

On  each  will  trials  sometimes  fall, 

With  which  our  hearts  must  bravely  cope. 

Be  yours  the  lot  to  gather  flowers 
That  sweetest  on  life's  pathway  glow, 

And  yours  to  find  life's  fleeting  hours 

To  years  of  peace  and  profit  grow. 
Waterbury,  Conn.,  1866. 


Saddened  Life. 

"  in  a  moment  we  may  plunge  our  years 

In  fatal  penitence,  and  in  the  blight 

Of  our  own  soul,  turn  all  our  blood  to  tears." — Byron. 


They  come  with  slow  and  solemn  tread  — 
They  come  to  sepulchre  the  dead, 
The  last  sad  rites  of    love  to  pay 
Unto  the  soul-forsaken  clay; 
To  pass  through  that  dark  scene  of  earth, 
Which  none  escape  of  mortal  birth, 
When  from  affection's  heart  is  wrung, 
The  keenest  pang  life's  store  among. 

Life's  lamp  is  quenched  at  early  noon, 
But  who  will  say  it  was  too  soon  ? 
When  all  that  sweetens  it  has  fled, 
Why  sorrow  o'er  the  earth-piled  bed? 
0,  who  would  call  the  sleeper  back, 
To  writhe  again  on  sorrow's  rack, 
Till  madness  came  at  mercy's  beck,  . 
To  hide  from  him  his  offspring's  wreck. 

A  youthful  form  —  her  only  son  — 
A  widowed  mother  leans  upon: 
I  knew  him  in  my  early  days  — 
A  comrade  oft  in  boyhood  plays; 
12 


134  MISCELLANEOUS. 

And  as  I  trace  time's  backward  stream, 

The  intervening  moments  seem 

But  as  a  year-encircled  space, 

Since  last  we  joined  the  schoolboy  race. 

How  changed,  alas,  his  prospects  now  ! 
The  brand  of  guilt  is  on  his  brow, 
And  even  at  his  father's  grave, 
The  jailer's  presence  he  must  brave. 
That  mother  now  is  doubly  lone, 
Bereft  at  once  of  husband,  son, 
And  in  her  hour  of  greatest  need, 
She  leans  upon  a  broken  reed; 
Lent  by  stern  justice  for  a  space 

To  guide  her  steps  unto  the  tomb, 
To  see  the  grave  his  sire  embrace, 

And  then  reclaimed  to  wait  his  doom. 

And  she  — the  fair  young  flower  —  his  wife, 

How  bitter  is  her  bosom's  strife  ! 

Is  it  the  dread  Destroyer's  hand 

Hath  touched  her  heart  with  sorrow's  wand, 

Causing  the  fearful  agony 

That  speaks  in  each  convulsive  sigh  ? 

Ah,  no  I  the  dead  she  cannot  weep, 

His  slumber  now  is  sweet  and  deep; 

Those  tear-drops  gush  for  one  whose  doom 

Through  life  is  to  a  living  tomb  — 

Who  dead  to  her,  though  still  in  life, 

Must  leave  her  soon  a  widowed  wife. 

And  that  young  cherub  on  her  breast, 
Sweet  nestling  in  a  quiet  rest  — 
Left  while  in  life's  infantile  stage 
To  more  than  orphan  heritage, 
Within  a  world  each  day  beset, 
By  sin,  temptation  and  regret, 


MISCELLANEOUS.  135 

Where  error  oft  wears  pleasure's  guise, 

And  duty  asks  a  sacrifice: 

O'er  him  with  foucl  solicitude, 

Who'll  watch  as  that  lost  guardian  should, 

For  virtue's  seed  his  mind  prepare, 

And  from  it  root  the  early  tare  ? 

Yet  deem  not  he  hath  turned  to  tears 
The  hopes  of  all  his  future  years, 
Or  cursed  himself  throughout  all  time, 
By  long  premeditated  crime; 
Ah,  no  —  how  oft  a  moment's  wrong, 
Reproaches  keen  through  years  prolong  ! 
The  quick  revenge  —  the  moment's  hate  — 
Hath  wrought  his  ignominious  fate, 
And  given  unto  the  blush  of  shame, 
What  else  had  been  an  honest  fame. 
Danbury,  Conn.,  1835. 


Lines  on  a  Recent  Death. 

Of  those  whose  bark  adown  life's  stream, 

Abreast  of  ours  doth  glide, 
Are  some,  whose  friendship  and  esteem 

May  be  a  source  of  pride; 
Whose  kindly  tones  with  magic  skill 

Can  touch  the  secret  chords 
Within  the  breast,  which  never  thrill 

At  the  mere  sound  of  words. 

Such  was  our  friend,  the  world  among; 

We  search  the  past  in  vain, 
To  find  where  envy's  poisoned  tongue, 

Or  malice,  left  their  stain; 
A  breast  with  generous  impulse  rife, 

Alive  to  others'  woes  — 
His  was  the  calm  decline  of  life, 

Unshadowed  at  its  close. 


136  MISCELLANEOUS. 

Yes  —  he  was  one  whose  earthly  course 

In  lines  of  light  we  trace  — 
Who  won  respect  by  virtue's  force, 

By  peaceful,  pleasant  ways. 
With  powers  adapted  earth  to  bless, 

Mysterious  is  the  doom 
Which  takes  him  from  his  usefulness, 

To  fill  an  early  tomb. 

He's  passed  into  the  marble  sleep 

Appointed  once  for  all, 
And  sorrowing  age  and  childhood  weep 

O'er  his  untimely  fall; 
Yet  Faith,  angelic  Faith,  upbuoys 

The  hearts  by  sadness  riven, 
And  bids  them  trust  he  now  enjoys 

The  unfading  bliss  of  heaven. 

He's  gone  !     Yet  none  who  knew  him  here 

Will  soon  forget  his  worth  — 
For  much  he  left  us  to  revere, 

Sojourning  while  on  earth: 
He's  gone  !     But  memory  will  retain, 

Within  her  sacred  trust, 
A  sweet  remembrance  of  him,  when 

Dust  hath  returned  to  dust. 
Danbury,  Conn.,  1835. 


Hours  of  Illness. 
Hushed  into  midnight  silence  deep, 

All  Nature  courts  repose  — 
The  worn  and  weary  ones  in  sleep 

Their  heavy  eyelids  close; 
While  I,  within  the  prison  walls 

Of  tyrant  Pain  fast  bound, 
Have  heard,  at  lagging  intervals, 

The  clock  bell  go  its  round. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  137 

Yet  not  without  a  sweet  relief. 

Night's  wakeful  hours  have  passed  — 
Making  each  painful  throb  more  brief, 

Less  piercing  than  the  last: 
The  trusting  Faith  that  looks  above, 

The  Almighty's  will  to  learn, 
The  soul's  sure  strengthener  will  prove, 

When  fails  the  fleshly  urn. 

A  star,  by  morning's  light  impearled, 

Bright  'mong  the  astral  spheres, 
I've  watched,  until  a  spirit's  world, 

To  fancy  it  appears. 
Anon,  a  darksome  cloud  doth  pass, 

Obscuring  all  its  light, 
But  soon  again  in  loveliness 

It  beams  upon  the  sight. 

Thus,  Heavenly  Father!  dost  thou  throw, 

Athwart  our  earthly  light, 
The  chequering  shades  of  joy  and  woe, 

Until  life's  closing  night : 
But  though  the  heart  at  times  must  droop, 

By  sorrow  overcast, 
Thanks,  Father  !  for  the  blessed  hope  — 

All  mil  be  light  at  last ! 
Daribury,  Conn.,  1835. 


The  Drunkard's  Betrothed. 

The  wish  is  vain — thou  wilt  not  see 
The  tempest  gathering  o'er  thy  way, 

Nor  shun  the  coming  misery 

Which  friendly  eyes  with  grief  survey. 


138  MISCELLANEOUS. 

Thou  wilt  not  rend  the  veil  aside 

Which  passion  hangs  around  its  shrine, 

Whose  folds  all  imperfections  hide, 
Nor  let  the  light  of  reason  shine. 

Thou'rt  slumbering  o'er  a  precipice 
In  willing  ignorance  of  thy  fate, 

Enjoying  dreams  of  future  bliss 

From  which  thou'lt  wake  to  truth  —  too  late! 

Thy  blinded  love's  deep  tenderness, 
Its  idol's  faith  doth  fondly  trust ; 

Clothes  all  his  faults  in  virtue's  dress, 
Nor  thinks  he  e'er  can  be  unjust. 

0,  bui'st  these  fetters,  fraught  with  woe, 
Although  it  fill  with  grief  thy  heart; 

Break  from  love's  fatal  thraldom,  though 
Thy  life-strings  may  entwine  its  dart. 

Give  not  so  thoughtlessly  away 
The  keeping  of  thy  happiness  — 

He  never  will  thy  love  repay, 

Nor  deign  thy  willing  smiles  to  bless. 

It  is  not  yet  too  late  to  heed 

Thy  friends,  who  hold  so  dear  thy  life  — 
O,  lean  not  on  a  broken  reed, 

Do  not  become  a  drunkard's  wife  ! 
Salem,  Mass.,  1834. 


Unforgotten. 

(On  the  death  of  My  daughter  Katie.) 
Two  circles  have  passed  of  the  seasons  away, 
Since  we  laid  thee,  dear  Katie,  in  life's  early  day, 
To  rest  on  the  hillside,  while  sun's  fading  rays, 
And  the  zephyrs  of  evening  fell  soft  o'er  the  place. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  139 

Yet  still  un forgotten,  thy  presence  returns, 
And  the  heart  for  lost  treasure  unfaltering  yearns, 
As  at  dawn  or  at  eve,  in  the  hours  of  repose, 
The  current  of  memory  back  to  thee  flows. 

Thy  wan  hands  enfolded  again  in  our  own, 
As,  cheek  unto  cheek,  cometh  back  each  low  tone, 
While  thy  glorified  spirit,  illumed  from  on  high, 
Uttered  sweetly  its  parting,  "  Dear  Mother,  Good-bye!  " 

O  fair  were  thy  footsteps  in  life's  busy  way, 
A  charm  in  our  home,  as  thy  heart  in  its  play 
Went  out  in  its  fervor  and  truth  toward  all  — 
A  magnet  whose  power  we  delight  to  recall. 

Not  voiceless,  dear  Katie,  though  slumbering  where 
The  rose  gives  its  odor  to  soft  summer  air, 
And  soon,  as  the  morning's  first  radiance  breaks, 
The  robin's  sweet  anthem  in  worship  awakes. 

Not  voiceless  -7—  for  echoing  back  through  the  years, 
Some  fond  tone  is  stirring  the  fountain  of  tears, 
While  a  spirit-world  power  lays  its  wand  on  our  sight,^ 
As  we  gather  again  in  the  day's  fading  light. 

O  glorified  spirit !  your  mission  to  earth, 
From  the  Fount  of  all  good  has  its  sanctified  birth, 
For  ye  lift  the  dark  cloud  of  bereavement,  and  still, 
With  thy  blest  inspirations,  the  murmuring  will. 

We  mourn  over  losses  in  Life's  golden  chain, 
Yet,  renewed,  'twill  never  be  severed  again, 
And  not  until  Death  has  ensealed  loving  eyes, 
Can  the  soul,  in  its  fulness,  the  Better  Land  prize. 
Poughkeepsie,  July  11,  1867. 


140  MISCELLANEOUS. 

In  Memoriam. 
(On  the  death  of  my  daughter  Hattie.) 

Oil  a  fair  day  of  June  we  laid  her  to  rest, 
And  the  beautiful  flowers  that  she  loved  so  dear, 

Loving  hands  in  tenderness  laid  on  her  breast  — 
Their  mission  of  grace,  like  her  own,  ended  here 

The  features,  so  rigid  and  wan,  now  no  more, 

In  their  placid  and  peaceful  repose, 
The  feverish  flush  and  the  weariness  wore, 

Of  the  life  we  had  watched  to  its  close. 

The  imprint  of  Death  rested  pale  on  her  brow, 
Away  from  the  scenes  to  her  memory  dear, 

But  ardent  home-longings,  unfilled  here  below, 
Fruition  shall  know  in  a  happier  sphere. 

We  miss  thee  at  morn,  when  the  gathering  comes 
From  the  slumberous  realm  of  the  curtained  night, 

We  miss  thee  at  evening,  when  twilight  resumes 
Its  spell  o'er  the  heart  in  the  vanishing  light. 

We  shall  miss  thee,  beloved,  from  the  circles  of  home, 
Thy  daily  communings,  thy  part  of  our  lives, 

But  tender  and  fresh  through  the  years  will  become, 
The  memories  sweet  of  all  that  survives. 

We  lay  thee  to  rest,  to  the  "  rest  that  remains," 
By  promise  divine  to  the  children  of  earth, 

Till  the  cycle  appointed,  when  angelic  strains 

Shall  summon  the  faithful  to  share  the  new  birth. 
Poughkeeptie,  August  1,  1884. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  1-11 

Restoration. 

(Lines  written  on  the  death  of  my  granddaughter.) 
Bright  she  beamed  upon  our  vision, 
Little  Hattie  —  star-eyed  flower  — 
Treasure  sent  from  fields  elysian, 
Joy  of  life  and  priceless  dower. 

Day  by  day  she  grew  in  beauty, 

Cherished  by  parental  care, 
Finding  pleasure  in  each  duty, 

Building  hopes  on  silent  prayer. 

There  was  music  in  the  chatter 

Of  her  charming  baby  talk  — 
Music  in  the  trial  patter 

Of  the  little  feet  to  walk. 

So  she  grew  upon  our  clinging, 

As  of  one  to  life  as  dear, 
Little  dreaming  she  was  winging 

Early  to  her  kindred  sphere. 

Sharp  and  bitter  was  the  trial, 
To  each  aching,  anguished  heart, 

As  we  watched,  upon  the  dial, 
Time  and  Hope  alike  depart. 

In  the  gloom  of  a  great  sorrow, 

Wait  we  darling  in  our  pain, 
Till  will  come  the  glad  to-morrow, 

We  shall  clasp  our  lost  again. 

Rest  thee  in  thy  peaceful  slumber, 

Blossom  of  a  few  brief  days, 
Till  the  years  in  rounded  number, 

Give  thee  back  to  our  embrace. 

Over  us  in  spirit  hover, 

Glorified  and  spotless  one, 
That  God's  lessons  may  uncover 

Light  and  Hope  through  His  dear  Son. 
Albany,  Dec. ,  1885. 


142  MISCELLANEOUS. 

Sad  Fatality. 

While  a  large  concourse  of  our  citizens  was  at  the  Upper  Landing  on 
Monday  evening,  to  witness  the  departure  of  the  volunteers  on  the 
steamer  Republic,  a  blast  was  flred,  at  the  Ferry  Dock,  but  a  few  paces 
distant,  which  sent  up  a  number  of  fragments  of  the  rock.  One  of  them 
struck  just  below  the  temple  of  Miss  Mary  Southwick,  daughter  of  Win. 
C.  Southwick,  with  a  fatal  shock.  She  was  exemplary  in  all  the  walks 
of  life,  and  endeared  to  all  who  were  associated  with  her. 

In  a  pleasant  home  there  is  gloom  to-day, 
For  a  loved  and  loving  one  passed  away, 
A  spirit  has  passed  from  this  world  of  ours, 
And  wended  its  way  to  unfading  bowers. 

0  weep  not  bereaved  ones,  that  stilly  and  cold, 
Ye  have  laid  her  to  sleep  in  the  shroud's  pure  fold, 
'Tis  a  beautiful  rest  'neath  the  verdant  sod, 
For  it  opens  a  path  to  the  garden  of  God. 

She  has  left  us,  and  Death  has  broken  in  twain, 
A  heart-welded  link  in  love's  kindred  chain  ; 
But  mourn  for  her  not,  for  the  beautiful  gem 
More  brightly  will  sparkle  in  heaven's  diadem. 

Then  make  her  a  grave,  where  the  sunbeams  play 
With  the  waving  grass,  through  the  livelong  day, 
Where  the  bright  streams  flow,  and  the  glad  birds  sing 
And  the  wild  flowers  bloom  in  the  opening  spring. 

For  kindred  to  all  that  is  gentle  and  fair, 

In  fragrance  and  beauty  of  field  and  of  air, 

She  will  come  in  the  hush  of  the  twilight  hours, 

Unchanged  to  the  vision,  as  fresh  opening  flowers. 

And  they  bear  a  sweet  hope  in  their  pleasant  bloom, 
Of  the  home  we  must  gain  through  the  sunless  tomb, 
Of  a  peaceful  existence  beyond  the  dark  grave, 
Among  the  ransomed  by  Him  who  died  to  save. 
Poughkeepsie,  1864. 


CARRIERS' 

NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES, 


WRITTEN   FOU   MY  JOURNAL   AT   POCGHKEEPSIE. 


1854. 

Another  circle  of  Old  Time, 

Kind  patrons,  over  us  bath  sped  — 
Again  I  weave  my  homespun  rhyme, 
(Perhaps  you'll  think  it  worth  a  dime) 

While  through  the  Past  we  tread  : 
Though  all  unskilled  may  be  my  verse, 
Permit  me  briefly  to  rehearse 

Events  both  old  and  new  — 
To  lift  the  curtain's  drooping  fold, 
And  bid  Reflection  calmly  hold 

Its  mirror  to  our  view; 
Perhaps  we  thus  to  Faith  may  give 
New  strength  a  truer  life  to  live  — 

To  Hope  a  ray  impart  — 
Gather  from  Wisdom's  fountain  deep, 
Some  pearl  of  precious  price  to  keep, 

An  amulet  for  the  heart  — 
That  Love,  with  more  unselfish  aim, 
May  kindle  up  a  generous  flame 

For  all  of  human  mould, 
In  humble  trust  on  Him  who  came 
To  cleanse  our  race  from  sin  and  shame, 

And  draw  us  to  His  fold  — 
Ordaining  that  our  love  be  moved 
Toward  Him,  because  "He  first  hath  loved. 


144  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

Another  year !  bow  many  links 

Around  the  heart  its  record  flings  ! 
How  fondly  eager  Memory  drinks 

From  all  its  various  tinctured  springs  ! 
Love,  with  its  golden  zone,  hath  bound 

In  happy  bondage  trusting  souls, 
And  precious  barques,  hope-laden  crowned 

With  prosperous  gales,  o'er  threatening  shoals. 

Time's  shadow  o'er  the  dial  moves, 

And  other  scenes  uprise  to  view  — 
Of  parted  friends,  and  household-loves, 

Companions  ever  dear  and  true; 
While  thus,  in  Retrospection  warm, 

On  Memory's  wings  we  pensive  turn, 
"We  keenly  feel  that  "  Partings  form 

A  lesson  truly  hard  to  learn." 

Death's  bitter  potion  some  have  drunk  — 

For  who  may  'scape  the  tyrant's  stroke  — 
Or  here,  or  there,  some  form  hath  sunk, 

And  close  entwining  tendrils  broke; 
But  while  they  tread  this  "  vale  of  tears," 

Their  cherished  hopes  by  anguish  riven, 
The  mourner,  upward  listening  hears  — 

"Thy  woe  can  find  a  balm  in  heaven." 

Pause  we  in  contemplation  now  to  tread 

The  rural  precincts  sacred  to  the  dead; 

A  Place  of  Rest  —  a  picturesque  retreat, 

To  draw  from  busy  life  our  willing  feet. 

In  quiet  beauty,  Nature's  imprint  here, 

Through  each  revolving  Season,  will  appear, 

And  Art  erect,  'neath  fond  affection's  eye, 

The  sculptured  stone,  to  point  where  loved  ones  lie; 

The  plastic  earth  will  own  the  moulder's  power, 

Yielding  the  blossoming  bough  and  fragrant  flower, 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  145 

Not  many  changing  seasons  ere  the  soil 

Yet  scarcely  riven  by  the  Sexton's  toil, 

Will,  of  the  Dead,  a  teeming  mart  become, 

Nor  heedless  footsteps  longer  o'er  it  roam. 

Yes,  Death  insatiate  will  his  harvest  reap, 

For  all  must  pass  into  the  marble  sleep; 

The  busy  throng,  elate  with  gainful  schemes, 

And  Youth  who  build  their  castles  high  on  dreams  — 

The  Maiden,  beautiful  in  Life's  bright  morn  — 

Old  Age  and  Infancy  —  be  hither  borne. 

Not  lost  this  teaching,  if  we  rightly  trace, 

The  truth  divine,  to  "  number  well  our  days," 

For  oft,  'mid  trials  stern,  the  wayward  heart 

Turns  from  the  wrong,  to  learn  the  "better  part." 

Our  country  !     How  with  swelling  pride 

Wt-  turn  to  speak  of  thy  fair  fame  — 
How  from  deep  fountains,  gush  the  tide 

Of  throbbing  pulses  —  for  thy  aim 
Is  traced  upon  historic  page 

A  lesson  to  the  tyrant  throng, 
Whose  course  is  tracked,  in  every  age, 

By  deeds  of  robbery  and  wrong. 
For  thee,  from  Europe's  down-crushed  sons 

Go  up  the  words  of  grateful  prayer, 
And  patriots,  in  derisive  tones, 

To  meet  Oppression's  edicts  dare. 

Earth's  truest  noblemen  here  come 

A  shelter  'neath  thy  flag  to  find, 
To  seek  in  Freedom's  land  a  home 

Where  royal  shackles  cannot  bind; 
Here  MEAGHER,  MITCHELL,  now  as  free 

As  the  proud  eagle  in  our  sky, 
Sound  forth  to  every  land  and  sea. 

That  man's  redemption  draweth  nigh, 
13 


146  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

When  Crowned  heads  and  Cossack  rule 

No  more  shall  keep  their  iron  sway, 
But  in  fair  Freedom's  peaceful  school 

The  nations  own  a  brighter  day. 

In  Smyrna  Bay  brave  Ingrahain 

Wrote  terror  on  the  tyrant's  face, 
When  beat  to  arms  the  roll  of  drum, 

And  brief  was  Austrian  time  of  grace; 
For  kidnapped  in  a  dungeon  hold 

Of  Austrian  brigautine,  there  lay 
One,  who  could  claim  in  accents  bold, 

Protection  from  America  ! 
Nor  fell  the  truth  on  heedless  ears  — 

That  gallant  ship  with  dauntless  crew, 
'Gainst  double  force  for  action  clears, 

And  snaps  the  prisoner's  bonds  in  two. 

Athwart  old  ocean's  billowy  way 

Is  flashing  fierce  War's  lurid  light, 
For  gather  now,  in  fatal  fray, 

The  Moslem  and  the  Muscovite; 
The  grasping  Northmen's  countless  hordes 

Of  easy  triumphs  proudly  dream, 
While  Omar  Pasha  bravely  fords 

The  darkly  rolling  Danube's  stream. 
Heaven  for  the  right  !     Our  beating  hearts 

Go  wildly  with  each  Turkish  blow, 
And,  as  the  sulphurous  curtain  parts, 

We  joy  to  see  the  Cossack  low; 
Heaven  for  the  right  !     Let  scimetar 

And  cannon  ball  sweep  back  again 
The  broken  cohorts  of  the  Czar, 

Dismayed  within  his  own  domain. 

Our  task  is  now  finished,  and  heartily  here, 

Kind  patrons  !    we  greet  you,  A  HAPPY  NEW  YEAR  ! 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  147 

Be  yours  the  blest  path  whose  guerdon  shall  prove 
A  sweet  Retrospection  at  every  remove, 
Till  the  years  shall  be  swept  'neath  Oblivion's  pall, 
And  the  Age  of  no  changes  encircle  us  all  ! 


1864. 

Another  year  has  set  its  seal 

Upon  the  record  of  our  lives, 
And  Time's  swift-turning  chariot  wheel, 

Knowing  no  pause,  right  onward  drives. 
We  may  not  hear  his  cracking  whip, 

Nor  motion  of  his  gliding  car. 
As  through  life's  changing  scenes  we  slip, 

And  backward  look  on  distance  far; 
No  toll-gate  stoppings  on  this  "  pike," 

And  all  may  ride  without  a  "  red," 
Though  Time  takes  toll  from  all  alike, 

He  does  it  while  he  drives  ahead. 
Still  sweeps  the  bloody  tide  of  War, 
Still  on  our  Nation's  flag  a  star 
Is  here  and  there  in  dark  eclipse, 
Whose  name  now  falls  from  saddened  lips, 
Persisting  in  an  evil  course, 
Whose  end  can  only  bring  remorse, 
They  struggle  on  against  all  hope, 
And  vainly  with  our  forces  cope. 

The  stubborn  fight  'gainst  Vicksburgh  walls. 
Yielding  at  length  to  Union  balls, 
Port  Hudson's  memorable  strife, 

Where  our  own  boys  bore  manly  part. 
And  gallant  COWLES  proved  with  his  life 

How  dear  the  Flag  was  to  his  heart  — 
At  Gettysburg!!,  now  wed  to  fame, 

Where  LEE  fell  back  with  shattered  ranks, 


148  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

And,  balked  of  his  expected  game, 
Eager  to  reach  Potomac's  banks, 
Upon  whose  consecrated  ground, 
With  soldiers'  graves  now  thickly  crowned, 
Our  own  Home  Regiment,  side  by  side, 
Humbled  the  foeman  in  his  pride, 
And  bore  the  stars  and  stripes  where  Death 
Was  treading  out  the  warrior's  breath  — 
On  Chattanooga's  famous  field  — 

Where  Chickamaugua  held  its  sway  — 
On  Lookout  where  the  foemen  reeled 

Backward  in  panic  from  the  fray  — 
All  these  and  more  of  red  fields  won 
By  Union   arms,  and  bravely  done, 
On  SIXTY-THREE  a  record  trace 
Of  valor,  Time  can  ne'er  efface. 

But  not  upon  the  land  alone, 

The  trophies  of  our  Flag  are  shown  ; 

Our  iron-clads  amid  the  roar 

Of  Sumter's  guns  on  Charleston's  shore, 

At  shortest  range  their  mark  have  made, 

Where  crumbling  walls  and  silenced  gun, 
And  treason's  flag  no  more  displayed, 

Show  that  their  work  is  well  begun. 
Should  British  Lion  or  Gallic  Cock 

Attempt  with  us  to  interfere, 
Our  iron-clads  will  prove  a  shock, 

For  which  they  '11  have  a  wholesome  fear. 
In  time  of  peace  prepare  for  war, 

Is  an  old  adage,  held  as  sound  — 
As  pledge  of  peace  each  Monitor 

Another  surety  will  be  found. 
No  foreign  power  into  this  fight 

Must  enter  with  a  hostile  gun, 
What  'twixt  ourselves  we  cannot  right, 

'Twere  better  far  to  leave  undone. 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  149 

Europe  now  hears  the  alarum  peal 

Of  nations  gathering  to  a  fight, 
Where  right  is  shaped  by  ball  and  steel, 

And  means  surrendering  to  might. 
The  Corsi can's  successor  tries 

The  role  his  uncle  tried  before, 
Let  him  keep  well  in  mind  — if  wise  — 

The  Eagle  cannot  always  soar. 
Soon  may  the  clouds  of  War  disperse, 

And  Peace  once  more  oar  land  illume, 
Soon  cease  the  desolating  curse 

Which  shrouds  our  country  now  in  gloom  ; 
Soon  in  a  Union  true  and  strong 

May  every  State  its  safety  find. 
And  our  grand  Constitution  long 

In  concord  every  section  bind. 

A  Happy  New  Year  !  once  again, 

Kind  patrons,  whom  we  seek  to  please, 
And  as  the  seasons  wax  and  wane, 

Be  yours,  enjoyment,  health  and  ease. 
The  PRESS  in  daily  rounds  we  bring, 

With  gathered  news  from  every  source, 
In  Summer,  Autumn,  Winter,  Spring, 

All  times,  all  seasons,  in  their  course ; 
A  welcome  may  it  find  from  you  — 

So  will  our  labors  lightened  be, 
Whether  the  year  be  old  or  new, 

Thanks  for  that  postal  currency. 


1865. 

Our  greeting,  kind  patrons,  again  we  renew, 
As  thoughtful  we  say  to  the  Old  Year  adieu, 
And  welcome  with  hope  the  dawn  of  the  New. 
The  New  Year  has  brought  us  again  to  your  dooi 


150  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

To  talk  o'er  events  which  have  marked  '64; 
With  our  carrier's  address  we  wait  on  you  here 
And  wish  you  sincerely  a  Happy  New  Year. 

What  change  has  been  wrought  in  the  year  now  gone  by, 

To  quicken  the  heart  and  to  moisten  the  eye  ? 

How  many  fair  prospects  which  welcomed  its  birth, 

Have  failed  in  their  pride  and  are  lost  upon  earth, 

How  many  have  left  us  whose  lines  are  now  set, 

Where  sentinels  challenge  with  sharp  bayonet, 

Each  moment  exposed  to  the  rallying  call 

Which  ushers  them  on  to  the  steel  or  the  ball , 

Or,  on  the  wide  ocean,  or  gun-shotted  deck, 

Watch  day  and  by  night  rebel  rovers  to  check, 

All  patient  awaiting  the  hour  of  release, 

When  grim-visaged  War  shall  surrender  to  Peace, 

And  freed  from  privations  of  camp  and  of  field, 

Eeturn  to  the  pleasures  that  happy  homes  yield, 

Well,  what  of  Eighteen  Sixty-four, 
As  brief  we  trace  its  record  o'er  — 
What  has  it  done  to  link  to  fame 
By  great  and  lasting  deeds  its  name  ? 

Abroad,  the  men  who  rule  at  will. 

Have  set  two  people  on  to  kill; 

The  Holsteiner  and  Dane  have  fought, 

Yet  who  can  tell  what  good  it  brought  V 

Somebody  pays  a  round  war  tax, 

For  Louis  Nap.  to  grind  his  axe. 

In  Mexico  they've  flopped  about, 
And  Maximilian  now  they  shout; 
There  Santa  Anna  had  his  day, 
And  Mirarnon  and  Juarez; 
Their  presidents  are  obsolete, 
Crushed  out  beneath  imperial  feet. 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  151 

What  of  the  night  at  home  ?  How  goes 
The  battle  with  our  stubborn  foes? 
The  year's  experience  opes  a  page 
Which  will  go  down  to  after  age, 
And  wondering  they'll  ponder  o'er 
The  great  events  of  Sixty-four. 

Ho!  for  the  Wilderness  !  and  Grant 
Flung  out  his  banner,  "  en  avant  !  " 
'Twere  long  to  tell  of  that  dread  fray. 

Where  hand  to  hand  the  foeiuen  stood, 
No  charging  columns  in  array, 

But  ball  and  bayonet  in  the  wood; 
A  dense  and  darkened  atmosphere, 

Where  foes  upspringing  to  the  strife, 
Out  of  the  darkness  would  appear, 

And  fought  lone-handed,  life  for  life. 
Long  was  the  fight.     The  scythe  of  Death 

Swept  fearful  through  that  gallant  band, 
And  many  a  brave  soul  fell  beneath 

The  star-gem'd  banner  of  his  land; 
But  victory  crowned  the  patient  deeds 

Of  men  resolved  to  win  or  fall. 
And  Richmond  saw  our  prancing  steeds 

And  serried  ranks  before  her  wall. 

In  Shenandoah  valley,  where 

The  varying  contests  foes  had  waged, 
Braving  the  rebel  in  his  lair, 

Phil.  Sheridan  the  foe  engaged; 
Linked  to  historic  fame,  that  vale 

Will  furnish  long  the  thrilling  tale, 
Of  war's  great  sacrifices  made, 
And  life  on  patriot  altar  laid. 

Atlanta  held  defiant  sway, 
A  boasted  rebel  entrepot, 


152  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

Till  Sherman  turned  his  guns  that  way, 
And  soon  his  pride  was  humbled  low. 
Onward  they  moved,  a  chosen  few, 
Keeping  unchecked  their  end  in  view, 
Till  on  Savannah's  lofty  towers. 
The  stars  and  stripes  proclaimed  it  ours. 

Vain  Hood  on  Nashville  laid  his  eyes, 

Resolved  to  capture  by  surprise; 

Thomas  would  not  be  "  Hood-winked"  so, 

But  gave  him  a  "  ticket-of-leave  "  to  go  — 

And  go  he  did  with  guns  behind, 

No  longer  for  the  fight  inclined. 

Bold  Farragut,  the  brave  old  tar, 

Who  boss'd  the  fight,  lashed  to  the  spar, 

Pluckily  enters  Mobile  Bay, 

And  soon  his  cannon  end  the  day, 

And  fort  and  fleet  succumb,  his  prey. 

But  we  no  longer  will  rehearse 

Heroic  deeds  in  hasty  verse: 

We  cannot  paint  each  scene  by  scene 

Which  in  the  two  years  intervene: 

Many  the  deeds  unknown  to  fame, 

Which  gild  a  humble  soldier's  name; 

Many  a  voice  in  death  now  still, 

In  hottest  charge  rung  strong  apd  shrill. 

Would  that  these  gory  days  were  past, 

And  we  had  seen  of  War  the  last, 

Would  that  the  hands  now  closed  in  hate 

Again  might  clasp  in  friendly  thrill, 
And  joined  in  Union,  State  by  State, 

Fraternal  laws  again  fulfill. 

0,  darkest  hour  of  fallen  earth, 
When  men  forget  the  ties  of  birth  — 
When  Passion's  rule  invokes  a  spell, 
To  make  on  earth  another  hell  — 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  153 

When  through  a  blind  revenge  is  spurned 
The  good  our  fathers  dearly  earned, 
And  Civil  War,  Sin's  darkest  child, 
O'er  earth's  best  progress  riots  wild. 

Our  song  is  now  ended  —  kind  patrons  adieu, 
We  hope  to  our  duty  henceforth  to  be  true; 
We  bid  you  good  speed  as  you  move  on  your  way, 
Your  path  strewed  with  blessings  as  day  succeeds  day, 
And  may  a  kind  Providence  so  keep  you  here, 
Your  lives  may  be  glorified  in  that  blest  sphere, 
Where  War  shall  no  longer  infuse  its  red  leaven, 
And  victory  mean  the  full  triumph  of  Heaven. 


1866 

A  New  Year's  call  —  we  come  again  — 

Kind  patrons  of  the  DAILY  PRESS, 
And  offer  you  in  humble  strain 

Our  Happy  New  Year's  brief  Address; 
And  'tis  a  Happy  New  Year  now 

To  rich  and  poor,  to  old  and  young, 
For  on  our  Union's  arch  the  bow 

Of  welcome  Peace  again  is  hung. 

Four  years  of  civil  strife  have  run 

Their  fearful  race,  baptized  in  blood  — 
How  long  it  seems  since  War  begun, 

And  brethren  first  as  foemen  stood  ! 
How  mingled  were  our  fears  and  hopes. 

Till  Sherman's  march  dissolved  the  spell, 
And  onward  passed  his  gallant  troops  — 

Till  Lee  gave  up  and  Richmond  fell. 
Then  Grant  confirmed  with  crooning  grace 

The  people's  trust  in  him  reposed, 
And  standing  in  the  conqueror's  place, 

With  generous  terms  the  struggle  closed. 


154  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

Lincoln  fell  'neath  the  assassin's  stroke, 
And  a  whole  people  mourned  his  fate, 

A  deed  so  foul  at  once  awoke 
In  every  breast  a  holy  hate; 

No  grander  tribute  e'er  was  paid 

Than  that  upon  his  coffin  laid, 

Proving,  whatever  may  divide 

The  people,  in  their  party  pride, 

They  turn  instinctive  in  their  might, 

When  Wrong  usurps  the  place  of  Right. 

In  Andrew  Johnson  now  we  hail 

The  patriot's  hope,  whate'er  assail  — 

Though  Faction  lifts  its  hydra  head, 

On  just  and  equal  laws  to  tread, 

And  clamors  for  continuous  strife, 

At  peril  of  the  Nation's  life, 

The  statesman  firm  of  Tennessee, 

In  footsteps  of  Old  Hickory, 

Stands  squarely  by  the  sacred  chart, 

So  dear  to  every  freeman's  heart  — 

The  CONSTITUTION  (grand  bequest) 

Which  North,  nor  South,  nor  East,  nor  West, 

Has  different  import  to  the  State 

Whose  laws  assent  to  its  just  weight. 

Defender  of  this  cause  so  just, 

In  Andy  Johnson  we  will  trust, 

Hold  up  his  hands  with  hopeful  zeal, 

Nor  doubt  that  Time  all  griefs  will  heal. 

John  Bull  has  been  our  dear  old  friend 
"Over  the  left,"  all  through  this  fight, 

Ready  his  guns  and  ships  to  send, 
As  "  neutral "  gifts  with  vast  delight; 

O,  generous  John;  O,  model  court, 
Rebellion's  helping  call  to  meet, 


CARISIEUS'  NEW  YEAH'S  ADDRESSES.  155 

Whose  cruisers  swarmed  from  every  port, 

To  burn  and  sink  our  commerce  fleet. 
But  soft,  we  hear  a  different  strain, 

As  Fenian  slogans  ring  afar, 
John  Bull  cries  loudly  o'er  the  main, 

Alarmed  at  Pat's  "E  pluribus  bragh!" 

At  home  the  "  Wearing  of  the  Green" 

Is  fiercely  banned  by  prison  bars, 
But  Pat  derides  Bull's  harmless  spleen 

Where  float  aloft  the  stripes  and  stars; 
He  shakes  his  pipe  at  Canada, 

And  Bull  sends  out  his  grenadiers, 
And  quaking  crown  and  armed  array 

Attest  the  Briton's  nervous  fears. 
What  though  in  Tara's  Halls  not  now, 
Shall  shamrock  wreathe  some  kingly  brow, 
To  speak  for  Ireland  as  of  yore, 
When  her  own  blood  the  sceptre  bore  — 
What  though  divided  counsels  break 
The  link  heart-forged  for  Erin's  sake  — 
Yet  shall  perfidious  Albion  feel 

Forebodings  of  that  coming  day, 
When  Retribution's  judgment  peal 

Shall  echo  from  the  Thames  to  Tay. 

Europe's  crowned  heads  have  sent  us  o'er 
A  Maximilian  to  this  shore; 
He  comes  equipped  with  crown  and  seal, 
Bearing  Nap's  "  recommend  "  in  steel; 
When  Jonathan  the  order  signs, 
To  give  Max  Montezuma's  mines, 
'Twill  then  be  time  enough  to  blow 
Nap's  empire  trump  in  Mexico. 

But  let  him  watch  his  new-found  clime, 
For  Andy  only  bides  his  time; 


156  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

That  time  will  come  when  banded  hearts 
Shall  beat  as  one  in  all  our  marts, 
And  jealous  of  the  good  old  rule, 
Taught  in  our  earlier  statesmen's  school, 
Shall  sweep  like  Marion's  legions  o'er, 
And  rout  usurpers  from  the  shore, 
Where'er  the  people  lift  the  cry 
Of  help  from  foreign  tyranny. 

Our  City  Home  may  justly  claim 
Some  marked  addition  to  her  fame; 
Since  last  our  annual  gift  we  bore, 
VASSAR  has  opened  wide  her  door, 
Where  woman  finds  on  varied  page 
Grandest  endowment  of  the  age, 
And  fills,  with  recognition  meet, 
The  limits  of  this  classic  seat, 
Nor  need  there  be  complaint  of  want 
Of  Education's  ample  grant. 

The  kindly  hand  of  woman  lifts 
The  cloud  of  want  by  timely  gifts, 
And  softens  rugged  Winter's  reign 
To  shivering  limbs  and  aching  frame, 
Work  for  the  strong,  care  for  the  weak, 
Dark  homes  with  healing  hands  they  seek. 


1867. 

We  come  with  our  offering  again  at  your  door, 
The  Old  Year  is  passed,  and  the  New  Year  before 
Is  tracing  already,  in  light  or  in  shade, 
On  all  a  deep  impress  that  never  can  fade. 

We  pause  on  its  threshold,  with  feelings  subdued, 
As  backward  we  glance  o'er  the  paths  we  have  trod 
A  sheaf  has  been  added  to  memory's  store, 
A  year  has  been  linked  with  the  years  gone  before 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  li 

In  the  chain  of  our  being  —  that  mystical  bond 
Reaching  back  through  all  time  to  all  time  beyond, 
As  a  parcel  and  part  of  Humanity's  whole, 
Where'er  beats  a  pulse  or  looks  upward  a  soul. 

Each  heart  has  its  lingering  places,  more  dear 

To  itself  than  all  else,  in  the  fast  flying  year  ; 

Each  heart  its  own  fountain  of  grief,  welling  o'er 

For  treasures  now  lost  on  that  desolate  shore  ; 

Its  holiday  promise  to  many  has  turned 

A  shadow  of  sadness  for  hopes  darkly  timed ; 

To  mortal  experience  the  moral  is  sure, 

Life's  cup  must  be  mingled  while  Time  shall  endure. 

Yet  who  from  this  truth,  alike  to  all  blood, 

Shall  murmuring  turn,  though  not  understood, 

Or  doubt  that  all  trials  befalling  us  here, 

For  the  best,  in  the  sight  of  true  wisdom  appear, 

Where  the  heart  to  itself  and  to  others  is  true, 

And  to  each  and  to  all  gives  the  Golden  Rule  due. 

The  land  where  our  pride  and  affection  belong, 
May  claim  for  a  moment  the  theme  of  our  song. 
It  has  come  from  the  furnace  of  trial  erect, 
No  stain  on  its  banner  to  dim  self-respect ; 
There  shall  still  be  one  people  intact,  as  of  yore, 
For  the  oppressed  an  asylum,  from  whatever  shore, 
With  equal  protection  —  opportunity  same  — 
Shielded  each  and  alike,  of  whatever  name. 
What  though  there  still  linger  the  leaven  of  hate, 
To  keep  us  antagonized  —  state  against  state  — 
What  though  clashing  factions,  hedged  fierce  in  the  way, 
A  union  of  hands  and  of  hearts  may  delay, 
Yet,  softened  by  time,  shall  the  enmity  yield, 
And  fountains  of  national  discord  be  sealed  ; 
Redeemed  thus,  more  truly  than  ever  'twill  be, 
In  homage  to  law,  the  blest  "  land  of  the  free." 
14 


158  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

Not  alone  on  our  shores  lias  the  Demon  of  War, 
Levied  hosts  to  the  fields  to  be  crushed  by  his  car, 
And  in  the  red  van  of  fierce  squadrons  borne  down 
The  scepter  of  state  and  the  title  of  crown  — 
Repeating  the  lesson  oft  taught  us  of  yore, 
That  the  test  of  the  right  is  the  mailed  arm  of  power. 
In  the  stern  Prussian  text  of  the  Bonaparte  creed, 
•    The  choice  is  a  short  one —  "  submit  or  you  bleed  !  " 
Whatever  the  cavil  to  work  so  begun, 
One  thing  is  quite  certain  —  with  promptness  'twas  done, 
Enforcing  the  rnaxim  which  sometimes  is  right, 
"What  your  hands  find  to  do,  to  do  with  your  might." 
Let  us  hope  that  these  changes,  so  costly  in  blood, 
May  bring  to  the  people  a  harvest  of  good, 
Though  stern  be  the  discipline,  out  of  the  fire 
Oft  comes  the  ordeal  that  nations  require, 
To  fit  them  to  work  for  that  era  of  mind, 
When  men  shall  uplift,  and  not  drag  down,^their  kind. 

O'er  the  soil  of  our  Mexican  neighbor  the  sword 

Is  flashing  in  conflict,  and  cannon  are  heard, 

Imperial  armies  still  rule  his  domain, 

Though  met  in  fierce  conflict  on  many  a  plain, 

Where  national  memories  kindle  his  zeal, 

To  drive  back  invaders  at  point  of  the  steel ; 

Will  he  triumph  ?  Who  doubts,  tho'  long  has  his  race 

Been  plundered  by  robbers,  installed  in  high  place, 

His  industry  crippled  —  his  labor  a  doubt  — 

His  ruler  thrown  up  on  the  last  rabble's  shout, 

To  have  and  to  hold  in  his  greed,  because  brief, 

'Till  the  next  stronger  faction  sets  up  a  new  chief. 

Yet  while  bitter  factions  may  hinder  the  day 

When  a  foreign  crowned  prince  shall  forfeit  his  sway, 

A  will  that  is  born  of  a  nation's  great  need, 

When  struggling  with  foes,  rarely  fails  to  succeed. 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  159 

All  quiet  in  Ireland  !  so  reads  the  report, 

Of  censors  who  speak  in  behalf  of  the  court; 

All  quiet  in  Ireland  !  Perhaps  it  is  so, 

Fate  rules  that  not  yet  is  the  time  for  the  blow  ; 

But  the  muttering  thunder  has  not  been  in  vain, 

Though  dying  away  it  may  yet  boom  again. 

Let  the  Rulers  beware,  and  with  equity  steer, 

Ere  the  ghost  of  "  Boroi'hme  "  again  shall  appear  ; 

Let  them  temper  with  mercy  and  more  equal  law, 

Their  national  dealings  with  "  Erin  go  bragh  ! " 

Strung  through  the  far  ocean  depths,  marvellous  link  ! 

Its  message  performed  in  a  flash  or  a  wink, 

A  lightning  conductor,  the  two  worlds  between, 

The  CABLE  its  mysteiy  works  out  unseen  ; 

Of  all  the  world's  wonders,  on  history's  page, 

This  conquest  will  lead  as  the  pride  of  the  age. 

We  close  with  our  errand,  kind  readers,  once  more, 
Hoping  still  with  our  DAILY  to  call  at  your  door  ; 
May  the  shadows  of  evil  which  fall  on  your  way, 
By  true  hearts  be  lightened  and  brief  be  their  stay, 
Till,  past  the  uncertainties  bounding  us  here, 
May  you  find  an  eternally  Happy  New  Year  ! 


1868. 

A  Happy  New  Year !  is  the  voice  of  to-day, 

Ringing  cheerily  out  from  the  hurrying  throng, 
And  joining  the  chorus  our  tribute  we  pay 

To  all  our  kind  patrons  in  annual  song. 
How  rapid  the  tide  of  Old  Time  since  our  call, 

A  twelve-month  agone,  was  made  at  your  door, 
How  the  weeks  and  the  months,  from  winter  to  fall, 

Have  sped  quickly  on  to  another  year's  shore. 

We  part  with  the  Old  and  we  welcome  the  New, 
With  friendly  salute,  and  with  festival  cheer  — 


160  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

Let  us  pause  for  a  moment,  in  rapid  review 
Of  events  strongly  marked  on  the  fast  fading  year. 

The  nations  of  the  Old  World  keep 

With  little  change  their  wonted  way  ; 
Their  "  war-dogs  "  now,  in  muzzled  sleep, 

No  longer  track  through  blood  their  prey  ; 
Yet,  with  a  watchful  eye,  each  King, 

Keeps  border  lookout  for  his  foe, 
Lest,  like  a  panther's  sudden  spring, 

An  invader  strike  a  hostile  blow. 

Old  Johnny  Bull  is  in  a  stew, 

Bothered  by  Fenian  buccaneers, 
He  hardly  knows  what  first  to  do, 

So  many  stories  reach  his  ears  : 
Now  Guy  Fawkes  plots,  all  snugly  laid. 

Set  Johnny's  eye-balls  all  astare  — 
Explosive  letters  next  have  made 

To  rise,  on  stiffened  end,  his  hair, 
0  Johnny  !  there  's  a  lesson  true, 

You  should  no  longer  disregard, 
For  sure  it  now  comes  home  to  you  — 

"  The  way  of  the  transgressor  's  hard." 

A  passing  cloud  o'er  Italy 

Awoke  the  breath  of  war  to  life  ; 
It  failed  —  and  there  again  we  see 

An  end  of  internecine  strife. 
O'er  Crete's  fair  island  Turkish  wrong 

Has  carried  rapine,  sword  and  fire  — 
The  weak  swept  down  before  the  strong, 

The  babe,  the  mother  and  the  sire. 
Yet  slow  the  tyrant's  power  to  crush 

The  patriot  struggling  for  his  home, 
Though  war's  red  flame  may  o'er  him  rush, 

He  bravely  stands  amid  the  gloom  ; 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  161 

The  stag,  when  brought  to  bay,  will  turn 

In  furious  struggle  with  his  foe, 
And  this  may  the  oppressor  learn, 

Where'er  he  strikes  a  dastard  blow. 

O'er  Mexico  no  longer  waves 

The  banner  of  imperial  power, 
For  sleep  they  now  in  martial  graves 

Who  ruled  in  regal  state  their  hour  ; 
The  invader's  foot,  deep-tracked  in  blood, 

Is  swept  from  Montezuma's  Hall, 
And  where  his  flaunting  legions  stood 

Now  stand  the  legions  of  the  soil. 
Yet  waits  there  still  the  reign  of  law  — 

For  civic  rights  protection  due  — 
The  firmness  which  should  overawe 

Each  plunder-led  guerilla  crew. 
Perchance  e'en  there  shall  Science,  Art, 

And  Labor,  win  enduring  fame  — 
Commerce  may  find  its  ship-thronged  mart, 

And  make  in  fact  what 's  but  in  name. 

Now  homeward  let  us  turn  the  eye, 

Where  far  Atlantic  rolls  its  shore  — 
What  do  the  year's  events  supply 

Of  note,  to  swell  our  carrier's  store. 
We've  stretched  our  borders  far  to  north, 

Where  polar  bears  and  icebergs  roam, 
Seven  millions  plump  in  gold  'twas  worth  — 

At  least  we  had  to  plank  that  sum. 
Down  where  the  gulf  stream  holds  its  course, 

One  of  West  India's  sea-girt  isles, 
Where  earthquakes  madly  spend  their  force, 

St.  Thomas,  looks  on  us  and  smiles. 
And  Cuba,  proud  Castilia's  queen. 

Is  only  waiting  for  the  "  rocks," 
To  hand  us  o'er  her  island  green  — 


162  CAKRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

The  key  which  gulf-way  trade  unlocks. 
A  better  way  than  that  of  old, 

Which  now  your  neighbor's  land  secures  — 
When  knocks  were  used  instead  of  gold  — 

Harsh  threats  instead  of  "  kindly  yours  "  — 
We  rob  nowadays  in  gentler  style, 

For  Uncle  Sam's  gold  box  we  tap, 
And  pick  up  here  and  there  an  Isle, 

To  add  unto  our  country's  map. 

A  "  reconstruction  peace  "  now  reigns, 

After  a  fashion  —  modern  quite  — 
When  Brother  Sambo  best  explains 

The  plan  to  mix  up  black  and  white. 
His  genius  regulates  the  code 

For  States  once  holding  high  renown 
For  legal  lore  of  men  the  abode 

Who  bravely  fought  with  Washington. 
Out  of  the  gloom  let  us,  hopeful  still, 

Trust  there  will  rise  to  save  the  land, 
Men  who  nobly  their  places  will  fill, 

And  link  with  their  efforts  a  patriot  band. 

A  Happy  New  Year  !  we  will  utter  again, 
To  the  friends  who  have  kindly  remembered  our  toil, 

A  year  may  it  be,  unshadowed  with  pain, 
A  year  whose  review  shall  be  pleasant  to  all. 


1869. 

The  rolling  months  have  brought  again 
The  season  of  our  annual  call  — 

We  come  to  wish,  in  humble  strain, 
A  Happy  New  Year  to  you  all. 

A  Happy  New  Year  !  how  they  roll ! 

These  circlets  of  Old  Father  Time  — 
Speeding  our  footsteps  to  that  goal 

We  heed  but  lightly  in  life's  prime. 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  163 

Farewell  Old  Year  with  locks  of  white, 

Your  faltering  steps  and  wrinkled  hrow, 
And  shadows  deepening  into  night, 

The  same  old  story  tell  us  now. 

While  pausing  on  your  utmost  verge, 

Thought  travels  o'er  your  changeful  way, 
And  Time,  with  muffled  tongue,  your  dirge 

Is  tolling  out.     Let  us  list  the  lay:  — 

Old  Year!  have  you  kept  the  promise  you  made, 
When,  a  twelvemonth  since  our  tribute  we  paid 
To  the  incoming  year,  with  its  beaming  eye, 
And  "  castles  of  air  "  adorning  the  sky  ? 

Have  visions  you  painted  in  rainbow's  hues 
All  vanished  from  earth  like  morning  dews  ?' 
Have  silvery  words  from  your  flattering  tongue 
Died  like  echoes  of  song,  on  the  night-air  flung  ? 

Have  hopes  that  you  raised  turned  into  despair, 
The  day-dreams  of  youth  into  anxious  care  ? 
Have  you  ruthlessly  crushed  the  drooping  flower 
And  the  bending  reed,  with  a  tyrant's  power? 

Old  Year  1     Old  Year  !     in  your  casket  to-day 
How  many  rich  jewels  are  hidden  away  ! 
And  our  eyes  are  now  turned  to  the  glory-clad  shore, 
Where  these  polished  gems  shall  fade  nevermore. 

You  shattered  our  idols  and  deep  was  the  blow, 
You  led  us  in  paths  we  were  shrinking  to  go : 
Ah  !  well,  if  when  tasting  the  bitterest  draught, 
The  waters  of  healing  they  proved,  as  we  quaffed. 

For  blessings  and  mercies  renewed  day  by  day, 
For  guidance  and  strength  in  a  devious  way, 
For  every  good  gift  from  a  kind  Father's  hand, 
With  thankful  emotions  our  hearts  should  expand. 


164  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

And  oh  !  as  the  record  is  made  up  on  high, 
Of  failures  and  faults  in  the  year  now  gone  by, 
For  us  may  some  guardian  angel  appear, 
To  blot  from  remembrance  with  cancelling  tear. 

Farewell,  dying  year  !     For  we  meet  nevermore, 
Your  sunlight  is  dim  on  the  fast  fading  shore; 
Reviewing  your  path,  smiles  mingle  with  tears, 
Pass  on  to  the  list  of  the  long-vanished  years. 

And  now  with  a  welcome  we  turn  to  the  new, 
To  the  hopes  and  the  trials  its  coming  may  bring; 

Whatever  its  pathway  now  hidden  from  view, 
May  strength  for  the  duty  abundantly  spring. 

Sustained  in  high  purpose  to  battle  with  Wrong, 
Inspired  by  the  courage  allied  to  the  Right, 

Let  the  lesson  be  heeded  each  household  among  — 
What  our  hands  find  to  do,  let  us  do  with  our  might. 

Our  voices  to-day  shall  be  tuned  to  glad  cheer, 
And  lively  emotions  enkindle  each  heart, 

For  festival  tokens  become  tb.6  New  Year, 
As  on  its  diversified  journey  we  start. 

Let  us  garland  its  hours  with  blossoms  of  hope, 
Never  borrow  concern  over  uncertain  ill, 

Resolved  with  its  trials  to  manfully  cope, 
And  meet  all  its  crosses  with  resolute  will. 

We  live  in  an  era  when  mind  must  be  quick 
To  meet  and  to  master  the  problems  of  life  — 

When  startling  events  are  crowding  us  thick, 
And  salient  issues  with  conflict  are  rife. 

Far  away  does  the  echo  of  turbulent  sounds 
Break  out  'neath  the  pressure  of  tyrannous  power, 

And,  driving  to  counsel  the  fear-stricken  crowns, 
Now  burden  with  anxious  emotions  the  hour. 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  165 

Yet  the  wisdom  to  rule  —  not  the  patience  to  bear  — 
Is  the  want  of  mankind,  now  than  ever  more  clear; 

For  the  ruled,  let  the  rulers  have  generous  care. 
And  the  cloud  now  uprising  would  soon  disappear. 

Turn  homeward  our  glance,  and  our  hope  will  not  fail, 
That  our  nation  again  shall  resume  its  high  state, 

When  conflicts,  that  now  its  reunion  assail, 
Shall  yield  to  the  spirit  which  conquers  all  hate. 

When  hand  unto  hand,  and  each  heart  unto  heart, 
No  longer  distrusting,  unfriendly  will  feel, 

But  in  all  our  wide  limits  shall  act  the  true  part, 
And  catch  the  old  spirit  with  mutual  zeal. 

Our  task  shall  now  end,  with  a  wish  for  you  all, 
Kind  patrons,  whom  daily  our  footsteps  attend, 

That  the  lines  of  your  household,  wherever  they  fall, 
With  peace  and  prosperity  ever  may  blend ; 

Each  New  Year  may  add  to  the  sum  of  all  good, 
Each  trial  be  followed  with  consequent  gain, 

And  amply  with  happiest  blessings  endued, 

We  may  meet  you  approved  on  a  New  Year  again. 


1870. 

Another  New  Year  now  calls  for  our  rhyme, 
A  year  rounded  by  a  new  decade  of  Time; 
We  come  with  our  annual  song  of  good  cheer, 
Wishing  each  —  wishing  all  —  a  Happy  New  Year. 

The  old  had  its  mission  — its  good  and  its  ill  — 
Its  joys  to  enliven,  its  sorrows  to  chill; 
What  hopes  it  has  withered  'tis  not  ours  to  show, 
For  the  heart  its  own  bitterness  only  can  know. 
Along  its  dim  shore  many  a  bark  has  gone  down, 
Whose  sails  were  unfurled  in  a  heart-lighted  zone, 


166  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

Rich  laden  with  treasures  no  wealth  could  e'er  buy, 

And  leaving  a  want  which  time  ne'er  can  supply; 

For  whate'er  we  add  to  the  sum  of  our  bliss, 

Can  ne'er  fill  the  void  of  the  dear  ones  we  miss, 

And  no  broken  tie  but  jars  sad  on  the  heart. 

For  its  answering  chord  can  no  new  one  impart. 

Yet  no  sky  wears  ever  its  draping  of  gloom, 

And  no  waste  so  sterile  as  never  to  bloom; 

In  each  rounded  day,  if  but  rightly  divined, 

No  heart  so  o'er  cast  but  some  sunlight  will  find, 

Some  motive  to  action,  new  strength  to  sustain. 

When  burdens  grow  heavy  from  life's  weary  strain. 

Thus,  like  summer  landscape,  when  passing  clouds  play, 

Do  sunshine  and  shadow  alternate  our  way; 

Brood  not  o'er  the  problem,  for  wise  purpose  given, 

'Till  "  the  Temple  of  God  shall  be  opened  in  heaven." 

And  now,  o'er  another  year  parted  we  stand, 

Its  record  to  note  of  our  own  native  land. 

Abundance  has  crowned  the  resources  of  earth, 

And  Pestilence  far  has  been  kept  from  the  hearth; 

In  wide  fields  of  labor  the  strong  hand  of  toil 

Has  reaped  its  reward  from  the  generous  soil, 

And  not  less  hath  the  skill  of  the  artisan, 

In  creative  power  its  due  recompense  won; 

The  varied  blessings,  which  so  many  miss 

In  less  favored  lands,  have  been  poured  upon  this. 

Change  now  this  fair  picture  to  matters  of  State, 
And  look  o'er  a  land  ruled  by  sectional  hate  — 
The  graspings  of  power,  guided  only  by  force  — 
In  reaching  its  aims,  riding  rough-shod  its  course  — 
States  made  or  unmade,  as  a  faction  may  need, 
Dividing,  ejecting,  to  suit  party  greed  ; 
The  ermine  struck  downward  and  made  to  succumb 
To  Congressional  Catalines  —  crouching  and  dumb  ! 
Ah  !  well  would  it  be,  if  the  rulers  and  ruled, 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  167 

In  the  spirit  which  governed  our  fathers  were  schooled; 
Then  agaiu  would  we  see  in  one  brotherhood  link, 
In  prosperous  union,  all  enmities  sink. 
And  hear  the  glad  paean,  from  shore  unto  shore, 
"The  peacemaker's  mission  is  joyously  o'er." 

Unsettled  and  restive,  across  the  blue  main, 
The  masses  are  struggling  to  throw  off  the  chain, 
In  the  "long  ago"  forged,  to  make  monarchy  strong, 
When  peoples  were  taught  that  Kings  ne'er  could  do  wrong. 
The  red  fields  of  war  have  not  saddened  the  eye, 
On  Europe's  fair  plains,  in  the  year  just  gone  by; 
But  the  long  fretting  discord  goes  steadily  on 
To  a  final  result,  between  subject  and  crown. 

The  cliffs  of  Old  England  Lave  beat  Sack  the  surge, 
For  ages  assailed  by  the  storm's  angry  dirge; 
But  a  foe  more  unyielding  now  meets  the  proud  front 
Of  regal  tradition,  nor  quails  in  the  brunt; 
'Tis  the  ripened  conviction  of  resolute  men, 
Demanding  Reform,  both  with  bold  speech  and  pen, 
'Tis  Ireland's  just  call,  in  her  plundered  estate, 
Long  slighted,  yet  doomed  not  much  longer  to  wait, 
For  Ministries  changed,  in  the  war  against  wrong, 
Betoken  a  time  when  the  weak  shall  be  strong. 

France  hears  the  loud  tokens  of  popular  hate 

Of  absolute  sway,  in  her  halls  of  debate; 

In  her  streets,  in  her  workshops,  the  leavening  thought 

That  men  should  be  free,  is  now  fearlessly  taught. 
"•The  Empire  is  Peace,"  said  a  voice  from  the  throne  — 

Where  bayonets  sustain  it,  no  peace  can  be  known; 
"  The  Empire's  concession,"  is  the  voice  of  to-day, 

Lest  palaces  tremble  again  in  the  fray. 

Through  the  sterile  old  wastes  of  the  Orient  realm 
A  channel  is  bearing  the  commerce-bound  helm; 


168  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

Two  seas,  like  the  Siamese  Twins,  are  now  wed, 
The  Mediterranean  linked  with  the  Red; 
A  triumph  of  skill  —  Low  the  dark-browed  Turk 
Must  revolve  in  his  mind  this  wonderful  work, 
And  the  swart  sons  of  Egypt,  with  new  kindled  life, 
See  stagnant  old  deserts  with  commerce  now  rife, 
While  harem  and  mosque,  hear  the  on-coming  tread 
Of  a  power  more  transforming  than  Bonaparte  led. 

Ring  out  for  poor  Cuba  the  well-wishing  strain, 

Beset  as  she  is  by  the  minions  of  Spain; 

In  the  land  of  George  Washington  hers  was  the  right 

To  words  of  good  cheer  in  her  glorious  fight  — 

To  the  moral  effect  of  a  strong- spoken  word, 

When  the  White  House  in  message  with  Congress  conferred. 

Has  she  found  it?     Ah,  no  !  but  been  coldly  repelled, 

Our  ship-yards  her  enemy's  navy  has  swelled, 

While  our  one-sided  rulers  with  hostile  parade, 

Through  vigilant  spies  have  denied  them  all  aid; 

In  time  long  to  come  will  the  story  be  told  — 

That  Cuba  had  nothing — the  Spaniards  had  gold. 

From  scenes  far  away  we  now  turn  in  adieu, 
Nor  weary  you  more  with  our  hurried  review  ; 
Let  us  welcome  the  New  Year  with  earnest  intent, 
That  in  higher  endeavor  its  days  shall  be  spent, 
That  in  all  its  surroundings  of  home,  by  our  aid, 
Each  rising  of  strife  shall  be  gently  allayed, 
Each  burden  divided,  to  lessen  its  weight, 
Sustained  by  the  lesson,  whatever  our  fate, 
That  the  noblest  example  on  earth  ever  given, 
Left  "  altars  of  sacrifice"  nearest  to  heaven. 
And  thus  will  the  passage  of  Time  but  unfold, 
More  clearly  to  vision,  what  never  grows  old,  — 
That  the  soul  rightly  kept  on  its  mission  while  here, 
Will  find  in  all  changes  a  HAPPY  NEW  YEAR. 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  169 

1871. 

We  stand  on  the  threshold  of  seventy-one  — 
How  swiftly  the  seasons  their  circuit  have  run  ! 
A  year  has  been  dropped  in  the  tonib  of  the  past, 
Since  your  carriers  called  on  their  song- visit  last  — 
A  year,  let  us  hope  that  to  you  has  been  fraught 
With  much  more  to  gladden  than  sadden  the  thought. 

Each  year  has  its  record  unshared  as  its  own, 

As  Nature   and  Life  by  their  changes  are  known  — 

Some  salient  features  of  virtue  or  crime, 

That  specially  mark  it  in  eras  of  Time  ; 

And  in  the  review  of  another  one  fled, 

Our  thoughts  let  us  fix  011  its  eventful  tread. 

To  kingdoms  and  peoples,  across  the  broad  main, 
The  New  Year  has  come  under  war's  fearful  strain  ; 
An  empire  has  fallen  —  an  Empire  been  made  ! 
How  glaring  the  "  whirligigs  of  Time  "  are  displayed  ! 
The  reign  of  o'erreaching  ambition,  uncrowned, 
Was  hurled  in  the  height  of  its  pride  to  the  ground  ; 
Fair  fields  plowed  by  cannon,  running  over  with  blood, 
Now  show  where,  embattled,  vast  armies  have  stood  ; 
Relentless  and  savage,  traditional  hate, 
By  Zouave  and  Uhlan  have  worked  out  its  fate  ; 
The  hearth-stones  of  nations  engaged  in  this  strife, 
Show  the  cost  of  crowned  heads  is  the  current  of  life, 
And  desolate  homesteads,  where  want  rules  the  day, 
And  mourning  their  lost  ones,  grow  thick  in  the  fray. 

O,  saddest  of  aspects,  when  war's  brutal  force, 
To  settle  disputes,  is  the  only  recourse  ; 
How  paltry  the  glory  of  satisfied  lust, 
Which  rears  up  its  idol  on  human  hearts  crushed, 
When  pride,  through  the  bloody  carnival  of  war, 
Fiercely  burns  to  extend  its  dominion  afar. 
15 


170  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

How  slow  are  the  rulers  of  Europe  to  heed 
The  historic  moral  of  diadem  greed  —  1 

Reaching  out,  reaching  out,  with  coveting  hand, 
And  flimsiest  pretext,  for  some  neighbor's  land. 

Yet  who  shall  the  limits  assign  to  events, 

Or  to  day  draw  the  scope  of  its  mate  a  year  hence  ? 

The  darkness  pervading  the  primeval  hour, 

By  the  bursting  of  light  was  debarred  of  its  power, 

So  'neath  the  dark  cloud  where  the  masses  now  tread, 

Will  their  gospel  of  higher  condition  be  read  ; 

Nor  vainly  for  liberty  shall  they  aspire, 

Though  their  pathway  lead  through  a  baptism  of  fire, 

Yet  the  sword  shall  be  sheathed,  war's  terrors  shall  cease, 

And  all  shall  acknowledge  the  blessings  of  peace. 

A  beautiful  island,  and  not  far  away, 

Where  sparklings  of  sunlight  on  ocean  waves  play, 

Where  buds  of  the  orange,  the  lemon,  and  lime, 

Are  types  of  the  beauty  of  soil  and  of  clime, 

By  the  minions  of  Spanish  oppression  beset, 

Still  with  the  life-blood  of  its  children  is  wet, 

While,  ravaged  and  wasted,  its  once  fertile  fields 

No  longer  their  tribute  to  industry  yields  ; 

Our  neighbors  they  are,  yet  with  coldness  of  mien, 

Our  rulers  no  comfort  or  aid  intervene, 

And  while  our  Republican  cheer  they  invoke, 

Their  pleadings  pass  only  through  vistas  of  —  smoke  ! 

From  climes  thus  entrarnineled  by  tyranny's  hand, 
Let  us  turn  now  with  joy  to  our  own  native  land, 
Whose  spreading  domain  is  a  heritage  free 
Of  a  people  who  bend  to  no  tyrant  the  knee. 
In  the  year  just  departed  our  land  has  beenjslest 
In  a  measure  that  gladdens  each  patriot  breast; 
Of  its  fruits,  let  us  mention,  with  national  pride, 
That  State  unto  State  has  been  closer  allied, 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  171 

That  union  of  feeling,  resuming  the  sway, 

To  closer  fraternity  ushers  the  way, 

When  a  union  of  hearts  with  a  union  of  hands 

Shall  strengthen  its  claim  as  the  hope  of  all  lands. 

Nor  can  we,  while  counting  the  gains  of  the  year, 

Unmindful  pass  over  its  promises  here  — 

Here  to  our  fair  city,  now  bound  with  new  bands 

To  the  people  and  homes  which  the  iron  now  spans; 

To  the  zeal  and  the  enterprise,  working  with  will 

To  open  new  channels  for  traffic  to  fill, 

In  the  signs  of  home  progress  now  meeting  the  eye, 

New  sources  of  comfort  and  health  to  supply, 

The  words  of  approval  which  fairly  belong, 

Let  us  freely  accord  in  our  carrier  song. 

And  now  to  our  patrons  few  words  we  address: — 

Our  thanks  for  your  aid  in  sustaining  the  PRESS; 

Through  you  it  must  nourish  —  through  you  must  our  cause 

Gain  converts  to  cherish  our  freedom  and  laws. 

A  new  page  is  opening  of  Time,  may  it  be, 

In  all  its  recordings  to  thine  and  to  thee, 

New  sources  of  pleasure  —  new  help  from  above  — 

To  weave  round  its  duties  the  garland  of  love, 

So  when  it  shall  in  its  December  appear, 

'Twill  have  been  to  you  all  —  A  Happy  New  Year  ! 


1872. 

Your  carrier's  call  for  Seventy-two  — 
A  Happy  New  Year  this  to  you  ! 
Heaven  grant  its  daily  course  may  be 
From  dark  misfortune  wholly  free, 
That  gathering  hope  and  strength,  you  may 
Tread  with  light  heart  life's  roughest  way, 
Filled  with  a  sense  of  present  good, 
By  each  returning  sun  renewed. 


172  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

A  year  dies  out,  and  backward  thought 
Takes  up  the  lessons  it  has  taught; 
And,  as  in  shrouded  state  it  lies. 
While  Nature  pays  lier  obsequies, 
As  midnight  orbs  look  glittering  down 
On  mantled  earth  with  snow  bestrewn, 
We  catch  the  spirit  of  the  truth  — 
That  Time  must  pass  to  age  from  youth  — 
That  Death  in  his  appointed  hour, 
Will  over  all  assert  his  power  — 
To  parting  year,  or  loved  at  home. 
Its  summons  once  to  all  must  come. 

We  turn  to  foreign  lands  to  read 

The  records  of  the  year  just  passed  — 
Do  they  the  lesson  wisely  heed 

Of  bitter  feuds  in  battle  cast  ? 
The  clouds  of  war  no  longer  brood 
•    O'er  devastated  fields  and  homes, 
And  peace  now  reigns  o'er  dwellings  rude, 

O'er  marts  of  trade  and  palace  domes; 
Yet  lingering  still,  resentful  fires 

Are  burning  'neath  their  ashes  gray, 
While  dwells  the   thought  with  sons  and  sires, 

Revenge  but  waits  its  ripened  day; 
And  still  does  crowned  exaction  strip 

The  masses  of  their  daily  toil, 
Watching  the  favored  hour  to  slip 

Their  "  war-dogs"  on  some  neighbor's  soil. — 

Soon  will  the  drama  change  —  yes,  soon, 
'  "  Vox  POPULI  vox  I)EI  "  be 

The  light  of  an  effulgent  noon 
To  disenthralled  humanity; 
And  then  shall  come  the  era  new, 

When  sceptered  power  and  rights  of  caste 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  173 

No  longer  shall  endow  the  few, 

And  leave  the  rest  in  bondage  fast  — 
When  greed  of  conquest,  born  of  kings, 

Shall  be  a  branded,  unknown  aim, 
Squelched  by  a  brotherhood  which  brings 

In  oneness  all  of  every  name. 

The  Old  World  rests  from  war's  alarms, 

But  in  the  New,  the  clash  of  arms 

And  raging  factions,  curse  the  lands 

Now  reddened  by  contending  bands. 

Cuba  still  wears  a  foreign  yoke, 

And  pleading  looks  through  battle  smoke; 

Her  lands  by  ruffian  hands  are  bared, 

And  neither  age  nor  sex  is  spared. 

Gem  of  the  Antilles!  shall  the  cry, 

Of  thy  long  years  of  agony, 

Awake  at  last  the  sympathy 

Of  those  who  struggled  once  like  thee  — 
Who  found  at  last  an  outstretched  hand, 
Reached  to  them  from  a  foreign  band, 
Ready  to  help  a  struggling  land 

Become  from  iron  bondage  free! 

"  Pizzaro's  conquest,"  once  begun 

In  Mexico,  is  never  done; 

Still  schemes  of  conquest  rule  the  land, 

A  chief  in  each  guerilla  band, 

While  sharp  beset,  poor  Juarez 

Is  like  a  hunted  stag  at  bay, 

And  all  around,  the  bristling  pack, 

For  change  of  rule,  is  on  his  track. 

Southern  Republics  run  to  fight, 
Like  insects  to  an  evening's  light  — 
And,  learning  nothing,  quick  return, 
To  revel  in  another  burn! 


174  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

What  burlesque  this,  on  popular  rule  — 
The  jingling  bells  and  cap  of  fool 
Should  hang  above  each  chair  of  State, 
From  Mexico  to  Rio  Le  Plate! 

We  turn  our  vision  homeward  now  — 

What  of  the  year  in  our  own  clime, 
Where  proudly  spans  the  promise  bow, 

To  welcome  all  of  every  clime. 
With  ample  store  has  Nature's  yield 
Crowned  labor  in  the  harvest  field; 
Through  all  the  avenues  of  trade 
Has  flowed  for  all  substantial  aid; 
Much  to  uplift  the  thankful  soul 

Now  retrospects  the  thoughtful  gaze, 
As  standing  at  the  old  years  goal 

We  look  back  on  its  buried  days; 
No  Nation  blessed  as  ours  has  been, 
Should  fail  to  keep  in  memory  green, 
A  conscious  sense  of  gratitude 
For  vital  gifts  each  year  renewed; 
Not  here  should  base  corruption  show 
Its  baneful  upas,  sweeping  low  — 
Not  here  should  public  trust  be  made 
A  gift  to  use  in  venal  trade; 
Where  much  is  given,  a  rule  inspired 
Asserts,  that  much  will  be  required; 
If,  honored  thus,  our  Nation  stands 
In  proud  precedence  of  all  lands, 
Her  beacon-lights  should  purely  burn, 

And  throw  their  radiance  far  and  wide, 
That  others,  seeing  them,  may  learn 

Safely  their  storm-bound  ships  to  guide. 

A  startled  nation  hears  the  cry  * 
As  swift  the  fearful  rumors  fly, 
That  a  great  city,  central  mart 

*  Fire  at  Chicago. 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAK'S  ADDRESSES.  175 

Of  commerce,  literature  and  art, 
Beneath  a  fiery  deluge  lay, 
Helpless  and  crushed  within  a  day; 
While  from  the  Northern  forests  came* 
Tidings  alike  of  wasting  flame, 
Where  fellow  mortals  strove  in  vain, 
From  circling  fire  a  goal  to  gain. — 
Not  narrowed  down,  by  clime  or  creed, 
Came  noble  cheer  in  word  and  deed, 
For  the  broad  heart  of  human  kin, 
These  stricken  ones  took  helping  in. 

Not  shortened  is  the  lofty  thought, 

As  taught  us  by  the  poet's  line, 
When  thus  to  our  conviction  brought  — 

Something  there  is  in  all  divine; 
The  moral  of  the  battle-field, 

But  teaches  passion's  willful  course, 
And  slight  the  sum  of  all  revealed 

In  public  life,  but  selfish  force; 
But  in  this  great  responsive  sight, 

The  Golden  Rule  impulsive  owned, 
We  recognize  in  clearer  light 

A  heaven-born  sentiment  enthroned. 

Patrons,  we  close.     There  is,  'tis  said, 

"  An  end  to  all  things  under  sun," 
And  you  may  think  our  rhyming  spread 

As  effort  past  this  rule  to  run. 
As  on  the  New  Year  now  you  tread, 

A  happy  season  to  each  one, 
So  may  you  gather  from  its  store, 

Of  all  that  leaves  a  real  good, 
Fuller  than  all  that  years  before 

Upon  your  onward  path  have  strewed. 

*  Forest  fires  at  Peshtigo. 


176  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

1877 

"  How  swift  the  seasons  come  and  go  ! 
These  years  of  ours  —  in  silent  flow 
Marking  their  coming  and  their  flight, — 
Now  seen,  now  vanished  from  the  sight  — 
The  same  as  when,  in  Eden's  prime, 
Man  first  stood  on  the  shores  of  Time, 
Unchanged,  though  peoples  and  their  place 
Have  vanished  from  the  Earth's  broad  face  - 
Alike  to  every  human  heart, 
Since  Time  unrolled  its  mystic  chart, 
Some  cause  to  mourn,  some  hope  to  cheer, 
The  moral  of  the  Opening  Year. 

A  New  Year  !    and  the  past  one  old, 
Its  mission  closed,  its  requiem  tolled, — 
The  one  of  present  use  and  thought, 
The  other  ended  and  forgot  ? 
Not  this  the  meaning  of  the  break 
Which  only  changing  figures  make; 
Our  life,  in  many  a  clasp,  linked  close, 
No  such  division  ever  knows; 
Treasures  there  are  which  grow  not  old, 
And  links  which  never  lose  their  hold; 
The  patient  toilers  by  our  side, 
In  life's  hard  battles  often  tried, 
The  self-forgetful  hearts  that  find 
In  others'  good  their  own  entwined, 
In  daily  duties,  trusting  love, 
A  joy  and  hope  all  else  above  — 
These  grow  not  old,  but  brighter  burn, 
As  Time's  dividing  dates  return, 
Nor  change  nor  seasons  ever  know, 
Save  as  they  more  divinely  grow. 

There's  greeting  for  the  New  Year  now  — 
A  timely  wish,  and  great  its  need; 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  177 

As  breaks  the  sun  o'er  mountain  brow, 

O  may  its  gifts  bring  light  indeed  — 
Light  to  cheer  up  the  darkened  homes, 

Where  willing  toil  lacks  answering  prayer, — 
Such  reassuring  light  as  comes 

After  long  vigils  with  despair; 
For  weary  now  the  burden  lies 

On  many  a  hearth  beneath  a  cloud, 
Where  shortened  means  and  scant  supplies, 

Make  drear  the  time  of  winter's  shroud. 

A  New  Year  for  the  Nation,  too  — 

A  higher  grade  of  public  life  — 
A  patriot  thrill  the  country  through, 

To  cure  the  curse  of  selfish  strife; 
Not  this  the  soil  where  perjured  lust 

For  power  and  place  ignobly  won  — 
Not  here  success,  through  venal  trust, 

Should  rear  its  head  and  justice  shun. 

And  how  shall  poet  pen  unfold 

The  monstrous  evil  of  our  time, 
The  right  of  suffrage  swapped  for  gold, 

The  shameless,  while  the  deepest,  crime; 
This  priceless  boon  of  manhood,  wrung 

From  tyrant  hands,  beyond  all  cost, 
To  scheming  knaves  is  idly  flung, 

As  worthless  thing  and  cheaply  lost. 

Voices  from  out  the  past  are  heard, 

Rising  above  the  Babel  hue, 
And  as  we  list  the  pulse  is  stirred, 

For  they  who  speak  were  tried  and  true  ; 
Tried  in  the  furnace  where  the  soul 

Showed  the  pure  stamp  of  patriotism, 
No  half-heart  service,  but  the  whole, 

Above  all  narrow  creed  or  schism  ; 


178  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

A  retrospect  beyond  compare, 

In  all  that  makes  a  nation  grand  — 
Shall  we  not  heed  this  voice  afar, 

Re-echoed  from  a  later  band, 
And  in  its  patriotic  strain, 

Great  memories  invoke  once  more, 
The  while  we  may  renew  again 

Our  birthright  pride,  now  humbled  sore  ? 

Home  of  our  Washington  !  we  turn 

Far  back  to  other  days  our  ken, 
And  there  in  glorious  light  discern, 

A  band  of  Earth's  true  noblemen  — 
Adams,  Monroe  and  Madison, 

And  kindred  Monticello's  sage, 
And  he  who  led  our  armies  on  — 

The  Hero  of  the  Hermitage  ; 
Deep-thoughted  Webster,  gallant  Clay, 

And  Calhoun,  worthy  triune  band  — 
0,  shall  we  see  another  day, 

When  men  like  these  shall  guide  the  land  ? 

Not  in  despair  we  close  the  page, 

Our  country  is  destined  to  fill, 
For  Providence  in  every  age 

Has  shaped  the  nations  to  His  will, 
And  out  of  all  this  chaos  dire, 

Faith  sees  the  upward  rising  morn, 
When  selfish  schemers  shall  retire, 

And  Freedom  sanctified  return. 

A  Happy  New  Year  —  patrons,  friends, 
A  year  to  you  of  means  to  ends, 
Brighter  and  better  yet  than  all 
It  has  been  to  your  lot  to  fall. 
To  little  children,  with  their  eyes 
Warm  as  the  gleam  of  tropic  skies  ; 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  179 

To  maidens  fair,  the  loving,  loved, 
In  all  the  grace  of  sex  approved, 
To  woman  with  her  meed  of  care, 
To  youth  and  manhood  everywhere, 
And  age  with  hopes  not  anchored  here, 
The  wish  of  many  a  glad  New  Year. 


1878. 

A  buried  year  !  One  more  complete  — 

One  more  sealed  up  beyond  recall  — 
Before  Time's  new  born  heir  we  greet, 

'Tis  well  to  muse  how  much  of  all 
It  brought  to  shape  our  life  and  hope, 

How  much  of  Memory's  garnered  store 
Came  to  our  lot  within  its  scope, 

That  we  should  scan  its  record  o'er. 
Whate'er  it  holds  of  grief  or  joy, 

Of  light  or  shade,  to  mark  its  flight, 
Reflective  thought  may  find  employ, 

And  profit  if  we  read  aright ; 
For  Time  unravels  mystery's  skein. 

Unfolds  the  problem  dark  at  first, 
Lifts  and  relieves  the  heavy  strain 

From  hearts  in  sorrow  long  immersed. 
The  vessel,  long  by  tempest  tossed. 

Glad  spreads  its  wings  to  favoring  gales, 
And  fading  hopes  or  substance  lost, 

In  time  may  find  renewed  avails. 

"  Unfading  Hope,"  great  boon  of  life, 
Whose  bow  of  promise  ever  spans 

The  rugged  scenes  of  earthly  strife, 
And  brightens  e'en  our  humblest  plans. 

So  came  of  old,  in  Palestine, 
To  chosen  followers  of  the  Lord, 


180  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

The  lesson  of  a  love  divine, 

Their  future  steps  to  guide  and  guard  ; 
The  shadow  of  the  cross  was  flung 

O'er  Jesus,  and  His  "  hour  had  come," 
As  came  the  words  no  mortal  tongue 

But  His,  could  speak  'neath  heaven's  high  dome 
"  What  I  do,  now  thou  knowest  not," 

I  tread  a  lonely  pathway  here, 
But  light  shall  bless  your  lowly  lot  — 

"  Hereafter  "  shall  it  all  be  clear. 

O,  bless'd  "  HEREAFTER,"  talisman 

Not  to  Judean  plains  confined  — 
A  gift  in  its  far-reaching  span 

Embracing  all  of  human  kind; 
To  all  there  comes  a  trial  hour, 

Through  which  we  only  pass  aright, 
By  seeking  humbly  for  the  power 

To  "  walk  by  faith  and  not  by  sight." 

The  years  in  ever  changeful  tread, 

Are  mirrors  to  the  thoughtful  mind, 
That  "seeks  the  living  'mong  the  dead," 

Some  consolation  sweet  to  find: 
Nor  vain  the  quest,  for  treasured  there 

Are  records  we  can  ne'er  forget, 
Some  blossoming  seasons  brightly  where 

The  dew  of  morning  lingers  yet. 

The  thickest  clouds  but  brief  o'erspread 

The  joyful  light  of  heaven's  own  blue, 
And  paths  of  conflict  which  we  tread 

Are  but  the  mould  of  manhood  true; 
What  though  we  fail  to  see  the  end, 

When  duty  .calls  to  painful  work  — 
Not  then  before  the  Wrong  to  bend, 

Not  then  the  Right  to  basely  shirk; 


CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES.  181 

The  victor's  crowu  is  poor  indeed. 

Stained  by  a  single  flagrant  wrong, 
And  justly  hold  this  honored  meed 

But  few  of  all  earth's  worshipped  throng; 
The  heroes  ou  the  shore  of  Time, 

Are  not  in  self  ambition  bred  — 
Not  made  so  on  the  fields  of  crime, 

Though  such  by  fame  oft  heralded; 
Obscure  their  station,  all  unknown 

Save  by  the  One  whose  name  is  Love, 
Their  pathway  often  sad  and  lone. 

Like  His,  who  marked  the  way  above; 
But  though  life's  trial  seasons  now, 

May  often  cause  the  heart  to  bleed  — 
The  "  crown  of  thorns  "  still  gird  the  brow. 

'Neath  burdens  borne  for  others'  need  — 
Lose  not  ilie  lesson  of  the  past. 

Now  speaking  from  departed  days, 
That  sunny  seasons  overcast 

t'ame  bright  with  joy's  returning  rays; 
The  future  meet  in  hopeful  trust, 

Each  day  in  holy  faith  renewed, 
Led  by  the  promise  "all  things  must 

Together  work  for  highest  good.'' 

Bright  be  the  New  Year's  gifts  to  you, 

Friends  to  whose  doors  we've  daily  come, 
Its  joys  be  many,  griefs  be  few, 

That  fall  upon  your  earthly  home; 
Gather  still  closer  in  the  way, 

That  fosters  in  the  household  band, 
The  warm  affections  noblest  play  — 

Life's  journey  travel  hand  in  hand. 
Happy  the  lesson  has  been  taught  — 

"  If  solid  happiness  you  prize," 
It  need  not  far  away  be  sought, 

"  Within  each  breast  the  jewel  lies." 
16 


182  CARRIERS'  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESSES. 

A  Happy  New  Year  !  pause  we  uow, 

Repeating  thus  the  greeting  old  — 
We  backward  look  on  what  we  know 

Ah  !  who  the  future  can  unfold  ! 
We  know  not  what  a  day  may  bring, 

Much  less  our  knowledge  what  a  year, 
The  morning's  brilliant  coloring, 

In  darkening  clouds  may  disappear: 
Or,  all  reversed,  our  fears  at  dawn 

May  merge  in  peace  and  pleasantness, 
Our  sharp  unrest  be  all  withdrawn, 

A  quiet  calm  our  soul  posses?. 
Imperial  Time  holds  steady  sway, 

In  order  close  the  days  and  weeks, 
Bright  eyes  grow  dim  and  locks  turn  gray, 

And  change  each  living  form  bespeaks; 
Be  yours  the  portion,  so  that  when, 

As  now,  December's  latest  day 
Shall  usher  New  Year's  morn  again, 

Life's  brightest  hopes  may  gild  your  way. 


A     000  029  942     o 


